How To Be A Hero
by Myrime
Summary: "It is not a good story to tell. It doesn't have a happy ending." She frowned at that. "But everyone here is happy." - Remus, Tonks and an end that really is a beginning.
1. How To Be A Hero

How To Be A Hero

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><p><em>This moment will be just another story someday.<em>  
>(The Perks Of Being A Wallflower – Stephen Chbosky)<p>

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><p>"Why are you sad?" a young voice ripped Remus out of his bitter musings. Looking up surprised, he found Andromeda's daughter watching him expectantly. He never noticed the ceremony being over, but people were standing around in small groups, talking with serious faces and important voices, but altogether quite relaxed.<p>

"It's a sad day," he answered finally, not bothering to wipe away the tears that were still running down his gaunt face. There was nothing to be ashamed of.

"But everyone else is happy," the girl offered. And she was right. A lot of the people present only came to honour those who had helped end the war. They weren't grieving.

Whoever were James and Lily Potter, anyway?

The remaining members of the Order had opted for a small, private ceremony, but then the Ministry had come and made an official affair out of it.

"Most of them didn't know Lily and James."

"But you did?" she looked slightly confused, twirling one of her blond pigtails – which, surely, were Andromeda's doing – around a finger.

"Yes," Remus smiled and it hurt but that really wasn't the time for another breakdown. "They were my best friends."

She cocked her head at that, maybe a tad unsure. "Then where is the rest of your friends? They should be here when you're sad."

He clenched his eyes shut, trying hard not to think about Peter's finger and Sirius' mad, barking laughter that still echoed in his mind. "They," he finally croaked, "They couldn't make it."

She frowned. "And instead, everyone else came? That's stupid."

"Yeah," Remus chuckled. "But my friends did something very brave and this is the Ministry's way to thank them."

"That's stupid," the girl repeated. Then she looked at the two new graves and back to him, as if contemplating something. "Mum said they are heroes. Maybe you should thank them, too."

"Nymphadora, right?" Remus asked, ignoring her grimace and indignant '_Noo, Tonks_'. "You know, I'd rather had living friends than dead heroes."

Her eyes widened slightly, but still she continued. "Maybe they like being heroes."

He nodded. "Maybe." Because he knew they wouldn't change a thing, having somehow managed to not only take down Voldemort, but assuring Harry's survival, too. "To be honest, to me they've always been heroes. There was no need to die, only to prove a point."

Shuffling closer, she asked with curiosity in her tone, "What happened?"

"It's not a good story to tell."

She waved his argument away. "Dad always tells stories with lots of bad things happening."

"Those are fairy tales. They always have a happy end."

She pondered that, with a serious expression on her young face. "But everyone _is_ happy about this ending."

Remus flinched, but before she could say anything else, he looked up and stopped her with the sheer intensity of his gaze. After what seemed like an eternity, he nodded. "Okay then, Dora," she didn't protest at the name, so he took it as a good sign. "You get your story. Sit down."

The girl didn't hesitate and chose the seat right next to him, watching him expectantly. He took another couple of moments, taking in the graveyard, eyes lingering on two particular names on mortal grey.

"Not so long ago," he finally started, voice hoarse, "In a kingdom not so far away, lived a brave prince in a big, old castle, spending his days with mindless adventures alongside his friends and a beautiful princess he had come to love. His parents ruled the kingdom with a gentle hand and everyone who set eyes upon Prince James knew that, one day, in the far away future, he would be a just king, too. But no one lingered on that thought, because they had peace and he was still so very young." Remus smiled at the memory of their Hogwarts days. How careless they had been, how happy, how whole.

"One day, though, there came a big, evil monster to their castle and declared a war. '_I am the most powerful being in this world, and you will fall before me like everybody else. And I will be the only king._'

"The King and Queen had promised to keep their people safe, so they looked the monster squarely in the eye and said: '_Never. We will fight you, and we will win, because light will always triumph over darkness._'

"They gathered an army and fought many a battle and although they won some of them, they were steadily pushed back. Many people lost their lives, many more their hope, but all knew they would never stop fighting.

"One day, Prince James decided that he could no longer stay in the safety of the castle. He too had a duty to protect his people and his home. His parents protested, of course, not wanting to see their only son hurt or even lose him, but they knew they could not keep him away, and they needed all the help they could get.

"So Prince James and his friends took up their weapons and joined the battles. They were young and invincible, so they pushed back against the monster and his dark forces. And so, their hopes were high.

"To spread this hope, they gave their people something to celebrate, and Prince James married the love of his life, Princess Lily. They were truly a royal couple, James with kind eyes. Lily with fiery hair. Proud and unrelenting, a picture to ignite courage in everybody's heart.

"They fought valiantly, side by side, and whenever they met the monster, they told him, '_We will fight you until the very end.'_

"The monster was furious when they continued to defy him, and it knew it had to strike them at their hearts to take them down. So it came, stomping and roaring and breathing fire, right to the castle where the King and Queen lived. It tore down their walls and shattered their swords and when it killed the King and Queen it spread fear throughout the whole kingdom.

"Prince James heard the monster's laughter from miles away, and was devastated because he had loved his parents dearly. But he took the crown with his head held high and when he raised his sword, all his friends followed him. They told the monster, '_You will never win'_ and charged anew.

"Those days were long and dark and desperate, but with King James leading them, they held the line. Then Queen Lily gave birth to their son, Prince Harry, and James was filled with new courage and fierce love.

"The monster knew it had to do something, so it started to take down King James' group of friends, one by one, and then it roared, '_Next I will take your little prince and watch you despair.'_

"King James stood tall and answered, '_I will never let you harm him.'_

"But fear was growing in his heart and he knew he had to keep his family safe. So he took his queen and his son and told only his best friend where they were going to hide.

"But he was not the only one afraid, so this friend doubted and wavered and fell, and when he went to the monster, he said, '_I will tell you where the king is, if you let me keep my life.'_

"The monster laughed and roared and celebrated his victory even while he was on the way to his bitter enemies. '_See, little king,_ it spoke when it was at their door. '_See how fragile friendship is. I will enjoy killing you. But first, your son.'_

"King James was terribly afraid, but he had lion's blood running through his veins, so he never hesitated to stand in the monster's way. '_Never,'_ he whispered and he fought bravely, but he was alone and the monster defeated him laughing. It stepped over the body and searched for its prize.

"Queen Lily kissed her son goodbye and stood before him as his shield. '_Never,'_ she declared and fell at the monster's wrath because her only weapon had been love.

"'_Now it is only us,_' the monster laughed, but when it raised his hand to struck Prince Harry, the boy looked up at it with James' face and Lily's eyes and the love of all those who had gone before him.

"The monster screamed, '_No, I cannot be defeated by you. I was to be king.'_ But it died and Harry lived. And thus is the peace we are living, built on the loving hearts of two people who would sooner die than let evil win."

After Remus had finished, his throat dry and with new tears burning in his eyes, they sat in silence for a while, Dora's wide eyes hefted onto the graves in front of them, while he himself saw the ghosts of four young boys, ready to take on the world.

"I always liked Sirius," the girl commented into the silence. If not for the sudden stab of betrayal running through him, Remus would have smiled at her deceptiveness.

"I did, too," he almost choked on the words. "But fear does strange things to men."

Sitting up, she declared, "I'm not afraid." Then she leaned in closer, whispering almost conspiratorial, "I'm going to be an Auror. And I will lock up all the bad people, so you don't have to be sad ever again."

He smiled at that, sadly but honest. It was good to see that, somehow, life went on, even if his own had come to a sudden stand-still.

"I am sure you will."

Dora nodded, then turned serious. "Thank you for the story. And don't be so sad. They loved you, too."

Her innocent serenity took away his breath. Ever since that fateful Hallow's Eve, he had been numb inside, like he was drowning and his lungs had already given up the fight. But that simple statement had opened a dam. Pain flooded his system, fury rose in his heart, loss settled into his bones.

But in the outside he remained calm as he looked at that girl who had all her fights still ahead of her.

"Yes, I-" he began, only to be interrupted by Andromeda's irritated voice. "Nymphadora." – _Don't call me that._ – "I've been looking for you everywhere. What did I tell you about running away?" She cast a worried glance towards Remus. "I hope she didn't bother you?"

He smiled reassuringly. It even felt real. "Not at all. We've been talking a bit."

"He told me a story," Dora threw in, causing her mother to sigh impatiently. "Can he come visit us?"

Andromeda looked up surprised. "It seems you're one hell of a storyteller." She waved away his sheepish look and turned serious once again. "But you can come over, of course, whenever you like. I suspect it won't be easy now with –" She trailed off, but Remus' smile was still in place.

"Thank you. Maybe I will." He planned on leaving Britain as soon as possible, but he didn't say that. "Wouldn't want to disappoint Dora here," he added jokingly, but his eyes were sincere.

"Well then," she nodded. "We'll better go." Remus knew she still didn't feel safe with her family out in the open. Even more so since that attack on the Longbottoms. "And… my condolences."

Both of them were surprised when the little girl threw herself at Remus to hug him goodbye. "Stop being so sad," she whispered into his ear. "I'll be your friend." His heart warmed at that, and the raging storm inside it calmed a bit.

They were halfway gone, when she turned around again. "And do call me Dora. I like it."

He laughed.

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><p>Hope you like it. Reviews make me happy!<p>

And a happy New Year!


	2. Almost Like Home

Since I was asked to write another chapter, here it is. And for BlueSwallow80, I'm already halfway through a chapter with a grown up Tonks for you!

Thanks to **reader **and **BlueSwallo80** for their reviews. Hope you like this one as well.

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><p>They lived in a small, homely cottage, right in a calm muggle neighbourhood. There was a well-kept garden in the front with children's toys strewn around and a bicycle leaned against the crisp white wall.<p>

All in all it seemed entirely unmagical from the outside. No one would have guessed that this could be home to the oldest daughter of the House of Black. The closer Remus got, though, the clearer he felt the powerful wards surrounding the whole property, thrumming with energy and no doubt alerting the inhabitants of his arrival.

Nervously clutching a piece of parchment in his scarred hands, he considered turning around again, still not sure that this was such a good idea after all.

One year had passed since everything had fallen apart. One year filled with odd jobs and lonely nights and pain refusing to disappear.

The letter had come as a surprise – and if it hadn't appeared at the evening he had lost another job, he would have probably never considered coming. As it was, though, he had needed those words of comfort, and he craved some friendly faces. And little Dora –

'_Nymphadora is missing you,_' Andromeda had written. It was so easy to reply and accept their invitation. Now, however…

He hadn't been in Britain since the funeral. Hadn't even talk to anyone who knew what had happened. This meeting might just be too much, especially with Andromeda looking so much like her cousin.

But before he could decide whether to stay or to leave, the door opened and it was too late for second thoughts.

"Ted," he greeted cordially, taking care not to betray his inner turmoil.

"Remus." They shook hands, then the older man smiled mischievously. "Andy sent me to bring you in. You looked like you were going to run away." Chuckling at Remus' sheepish look, he added, "Dora would have never forgiven me."

Together they entered and Ted led them into a spacious kitchen where Andromeda was busy making tea.

"Remus," she called out. "How good of you to join us."

She smiled and he felt some of the tension leave his body. They had never had a close relationship other than the occasional meeting with Sirius and through Order business, but her demeanor was genuine and there was no pity in her eyes, so he thought his worries might have been for naught. She motioned him to sit, before calling out to her daughter.

It didn't take more than a couple heartbeats before loud trampling could be heard and a small bundle threw herself into his arms.

"Remus. You're here," the girl cried out in obvious joy. "I've been waiting for ages."

A smile crept onto the young man's face, wide and honest, causing several years of age to drop off him.

"I've missed you, too, Dora." She looked up happily at that, glancing at him almost conspiratorial through thick black hair adorned with a couple pink streaks.

"You don't look so sad anymore. That's good," she stated contently. The a grin split her small face. "Are you going to tell me another story?"

"Nymphadora," her mother chastised, but Remus waved it away, indicating he didn't mind.

"Gladly." She beamed at him, grabbed his hand and started to drag him up, when Ted stopped her.

"Now, Dora, we invited Remus for dinner. You might get your story afterwards."

The girl pouted but sat down, right next to her friend. "I'm not hungry," she murmured, making amused looks appear on her parents' faces.

"But Remus is," Andromeda stated, her voice leaving no room for further discussion.

After winking at his hosts, Remus leaned towards Dora and whispered, "I'll hurry."

Dinner was delicious. While Andromeda, due to being a Black, never learned how to cook, and still hadn't developed any talent for it, Ted loved spending time in their kitchen and took over the responsibility of feeding the family without complaint. Remus, who had tasted Sirius abysmal tries, was very glad for that.

He enjoyed the rich food and the chance to eat until he was full – he had given up the hope of ever getting used to all the meals he missed due to his insufficient and irregular income.

It almost felt like coming home, being welcomed in this house, sharing smiles with people of his past. He even found comfort in Andromeda's grey eyes, despite them being so similar to Sirius'. They reminded him of _before_, of the golden times. It made him forget – if only for a moment – that he was the only one left.

Remus had barely time to clear his plate before Dora jumped up and grabbed his hand again. Her mother opened her mouth as if to protest, but he smiled at her and shook his head.

Dora's room was all in blue, toy dragons lay strewn around and the only thing not drowning in the overall chaos was her bed – probably a courtesy from her mother. The girl hurried towards it, more stumbling and hitting against furniture than actual walking, but she didn't seem to notice. Instead, she threw herself onto the dark blue duvet, awaiting him with impatient excitement.

Looking around, Remus located a small chair in corner and moved to get it, but was interrupted.

"No, silly," she grinned cheekily. "You have to sit here on the bed."

Shrugging, he complied, positioning himself at the foot, with his back leaning against the wall, so she would have enough room to lie down.

"How have you been?" It was such a grown up question, that he automatically began to work through his standard answer, but something in her eyes startled him. They bore a sincere, caring expression.

'_I'll be your friend._' She had said a year ago, and it seemed she had not forgotten it, despite all the time that had passed, despite him being away.

"I've been waiting for a letter from you," she added, as if she had read his mind. "Mum said I shouldn't bother you. That you'd come when you're ready."

"I don't think I will ever be ready," he confessed, not knowing what had compelled him to say that, to be so honest with her. But she simply nodded, as if she understood completely. "I thought it would get easier. Everyone else is doing just fine. And I –"

"But you are here."

He nodded. "A friend asked me to come." Her smile was the most beautiful thing Remus had ever seen. It made warmth blossom in his chest, flowing all the way into his fingertips. _Better even than chocolate,_ he decided.

"Now about that story –"

"You don't have to," her young face had turned serious again.

"But wasn't that why you invited me?" dramatically clutching a hand to his chest, he added in a mock-hurt tone, "I travelled through the whole wide world, facing dangers and discomforts with no regard to my personal well-being because my Lady called for me, and now I am dismissed in such a heartless manner. Oh, cruel life."

Barely able to keep a straight face, she replied pompously, "I did not want to offend you, kind sir. I just thought you might be too tired after your strenuous journey." At his pained face she finally erupted into laughter, and he did not manage to keep up the act for much longer either before following suit.

After they had calmed down, she tried it again, "I mean it. I don't mind if you don't want to."

Remus shook his head gently. "I do want to. With you, it is safe to remember." Somehow, he knew that was true.

He waited until she had settled comfortably, and her eager face almost set him off laughing again, but then he smiled and began.

"Once upon a time, in a deep forest far away, lived a very peculiar group of friends. First there was Prongs, a royal stag. He was brave and smart, and no adventure was too dangerous for him.

"Second there was Padfoot, a big, black dog, rumored to look like a Grim. But he enjoyed life too much to be a sign of death, so you found him always laughing. And he was loyal to a fault." Until he wasn't, but this really wasn't a time for that.

"Third, there was Moony, a wolf who was intelligent and had a gentle heart. He had spent most of his life alone, so he valued his friends over everything else.

"And lastly, there was Wormtail, a rat. And though he was the smallest of the four, he was just as big a part of their group as everyone else. He was cunning and funny, and he always was a good listener.

"They were well-loved by most other animals in the forest, but one doe in particular was very dear to Prongs, and in extension to the others. It would come a day, when the two of them would marry, so her safety was of great concern to the friends.

"One day, there were rumors of a very poisonous snake roaming their home, that sought to be King over all the others, and he was seen talking to Prongs' love. So of course, our four friends had to investigate –"

When the story was finished, Remus left Dora upstairs to get ready for bed and rejoined her parents, who were sitting in the living room in front of a merrily burning fire. Ted nursed a drink, offering one to their guest which Remus accepted gladly.

Putting her book down, Andromeda inclined her head. "Is the little monster asleep?"

Remus chuckled. "Not yet. But she's on her way there."

"I can't remember the last time she went to bed willingly," there was a grin on Ted's face, but with his next words he turned serious. "You should come more often." Before there was any time for Remus to answer, he continued hastily. "The offer stands. Just think about it. Running away forever is no solution."

"I'm not running away," when the words come out sharper than intended, Remus looked sheepishly down at his hands.

In an attempt to ease the tension around them, Andromeda asked, "Where do you live now?"

"France," he offered, squirming nervously, which caused both of his hosts to raise their eyebrows.

"That doesn't sound too convinced."

His cheeks turning a faint red, Remus gave in. "I had a small flat in Lyon. But – I've lost my job and, well, I couldn't afford it anymore."

Ted leaned forward, and refilled his guest's glass with amber liquid. "And now?"

Remus shrugged uncomfortably. "I stay here or there. It's okay, really," he added when he saw the other man frown and open his mouth to say something.

"It is sad," Andromeda spoke up pensively. "To see how prejudiced people are. You've got excellent NEWTs, if I remember correctly, and still, no one bothers to look behind those scars."

Her words left Remus shell-shocked and uncertain and wary. Did they know? Then why was he here? His rising panic must have shown on his face, because Andromeda lay her hand on his arm and smiled softly.

"Of course we know. There was only a bit of logic needed to figure it out." Then she chuckled. "Also Sirius was never good at appearing inconspicuous when he was up to something." At his sharp look she shook her head reassuringly. "Don't worry, he never told. I just know –" Tension spiked up, causing her to correct herself. "Knew him."

Silence settled around them, in which Remus tried to battle down the shame burning in his every fiber. "Then why did you invite me? Why did you leave me alone with Dora? Why –"

"Because," Ted interrupted in a voice that left no room for discussion. "We trust you. Because you fought beside us these past years, no matter most of the people you were protecting wouldn't even look at you if they knew. Because we don't care about such stupid prejudices."

Andromeda took over. "You're a good man. Don't ever doubt that."

Remus sat with his eyes closed, caught between elation and disbelief, until he heard steps coming closer which interrupted his musings.

Dora barked into the living room, clad in her pajamas, with tooth paste still sticking to one side of her mouth. She was smiling from ear to ear and engulfed Remus into another hug. The young man hesitated to put his arms around the girl, watching her parents carefully for any sign of discomfort, anything that would betray their earlier words as lies. But they only smiled, looking utterly comfortable with a werewolf hugging their only child. Taking that as an encouragement, he held her close.

"Good night, Dora," he said. "Dream well."

She nodded. "Thank you for the story." Then she was off, hugging her parents good night as well. At the door she turned again, her face serious. "Don't forget to write this time."

"I won't," but she was already gone, trusting him to do so without waiting for his answer. Smiling, he settled back into his chair, noticing that all tension had left his body.

"Thank you," he spoke softly, meaning much more than he could ever put into words. He knew he would have to leave soon, to return to France and his futile search for a permanent job that paid enough to keep him alive.

But he didn't want to think about that. Right now, right here, he felt almost at home.

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><p>Thank you for reading. Reviews make me happy!<p> 


	3. Letters Home

So, yeah, I couldn't sleep last night. Instead I wrote and, somehow, Dora turned out to be avoiding adulthood for another chapter. You get a load of fluff instead.

And I'm pretty sure, this will be the last child-Dora chapter. If not, blame it on my very unhealthy sleeping patterns.

Thank you to **BlueSwallow80** and **Ron's Maroon Jumper **for your reviews.

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><p>iii – Letters Home<p>

„What if no one will like me?"

Remus looked up surprised at the sudden question, confused for a moment, because he had never heard that particular voice sound so nervous. Dora stood in the door to her home's living room where he had been reading, small and uncertain and so very unlike her usual vibrant self, that it took him a couple of heart-beats to remember that she had asked a question.

When he did, however, he almost laughed. "What?"

She gestured impatiently, looking away almost shyly. "What if –"

"No, no," he interrupted, shaking his head. "It's just – why would you think that? That's utter nonsense."

That made her eyes snap up at him in irritation. "Be serious."

Laying his book aside, Remus leaned forward. "Look at me and tell me what you see."

"My best friend," she answered promptly, causing him to smile. Even after all these years her trust would warm his heart, never knowing how he, of all people, deserved someone like her in his life.

"I mean other than that."

Sitting down across from him, she pouted. "I don't know what that has to do with anything."

He ignored her. "You see a tired old man," she slid to the edge of her seat, ready to protest or jump up and hug him and show him what nonsense _that_ was, but Remus didn't let her interrupt him. "And this tired old man was a tired and lonely boy once, who was not only very excited about going to Hogwarts, but also terribly afraid."

He smiled softly, remembering that last week before he was to board the Hogwarts Express for the first time, when it had suddenly become real. That he would leave home. That he would be alone, more alone than ever, for he would not even have his parents.

"Because, contrary to the charming and funny and loyal girl you are, he had real reasons why finding friends might prove just a tiny bit difficult."

The frown on her face was exquisite. "That's stupid. You're great and smart and –" Then it seemed to dawn on her what he meant, but the next second she eyed him almost chastising. "No one who matters cares for stupid prejudices."

'Prejudice' was her favourite word, ever since she learned what it meant. She used it often and with much fire, ranting about everyone who dared have them, especially against her personal storyteller.

"You found good friends, best friends, despite your worries."

He grinned at her, and she blushed. "Exactly. And, believe me, I fought them very hard in the beginning, and still they stayed by my side. So," cocking his head to one side, he turned serious again. "There really is no reason why you'd need to be nervous."

"But I'm –"

"Charming and funny and loyal," he repeated his earlier description. "You're also kind and strong-willed." Chuckling, he added, "And ferocious and absolutely terrifying when you're angry."

A smile crept on her lips and he counted that as a victory. "Do you really mean that, or did you say that only because you like me?"

"I like you _and_ I mean it. Also," he narrowed his eyes playfully, "do you want to imply that I would ever lie?"

Giggling freely, she answered, "Not to me."

"Right you are," he nodded. "Never to you."

Dora slumped back into her seat, relaxed again, now that her fears were dealt with. Smiling lazily she motioned at the book laying at his side. "What are you reading? Something interesting?"

He sniffed. "Nothing for little girls." Leaning forward he said pompously, "You wouldn't understand."

Crying out indignantly, she threw herself at him, trying to snatch the book out of his hands which he held right above her reach. Suddenly she grinned and changed her tactic, starting to tickle him where she knew it would hit him hardest.

"You just declared war," he stated grimly, with his eyes laughing. And the big tome lay forgotten as he tackled her and repaid her in kind.

Their happy laughs and squeals were causing quite a commotion, echoing through the small house. Ted, who had been busy with preparing dinner, came to see what they were up to, and found them lying in a breathless heap in front of the fire place, panting and holding their sides. He shook his head fondly. Andromeda and he had long ago gotten used to the sudden bursts of childishness from their favourite guest, no matter that he was closer to their age than their daughter's. He was glad for both of them, and went back to the kitchen without making his presence known. Their time together would be over soon enough. No need to interrupt their fun.

Oblivious to their secret observer, Dora giggled at Remus being out of breath. "You're getting old."

"Take that back," he answered, his tone indignant. "Or do you want to get some more?"

She eyed his hands which he had raised threateningly, and answered cheekily. "No thanks, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

He only chuckled in response, while Dora put his momentary distractedness to good use and fished for the book that had started their little all-out tickling war.

"Math?" she asked in obvious disbelief. "Really?"

"That's Arithmancy, little girl," he eyed her grinning widely, while his voice was mock-condescending. "I did tell you that you wouldn't understand."

"Oh, the shame," sighing she threw up her arms. "I called you friend. And all the while you were doing math. _Willingly_."

At her accusing tone, his eyes widened comically and he clutched his heart. "You wound me." Then he leaned in closer and whispered, "How could I ever do such an evil thing _willingly_? But-", hesitating he seemed to contemplate whether he could tell her. "There's that evil gremlin who is forcing me to. I swear."

Dora regarded him in silence, causing him to look more miserable with every passing second. Finally, she announced very matter-of-factly, "Then we will have to get rid of that gremlin." And, thinking of his current employer, 'gremlin' really seemed like an appropriate description.

Remus almost fell over in his haste to kneel in front of her. "You honour me, my Lady. Now I know that there is nothing more to fear. With such a formidable hero at my side."

The look of hero-worship on his face was too much for her to remain serious. And when she burst out laughing, he, naturally, followed.

"I don't want to go," Dora admitted quietly after they had both calmed down. Upon seeing his expression, she added hastily, "No, I want to go. I just don't want to leave you."

That made him smile. Until now it had always been him leaving, back to France or wherever he was trying to settle down, back to odd jobs and lonely flats, back to grim thoughts and painful what-ifs. Her being sad had made it, somehow, better every time. Showing that he would have something to come back to.

Now it was her going away. To her first big adventure. To make the first step into the rest of her life. And still, she was thinking about him. That would probably change when she made her first friends, but right then it was heart-warming and very welcome, because, if he was honest with himself – and he usually was – knowing that she wouldn't be here for the better part of the following years hurt. He liked Ted and Andromeda well enough, and he knew they would make sure that he would not stop coming over, but it would all be different with Dora gone.

"I want you to have the time of your life at Hogwarts. I want you to find the best friends imaginable, play pranks and maybe learn something useful when there's nothing else to do," he chuckled quietly. "But in all truth, I, too, don't want you to leave."

She smiled at him, both sad and happy. "I will write, of course."

"I never thought you wouldn't."

At that she engulfed him in a bone-breaking hug and he thought, maybe, she wouldn't forget about him after all.

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><p>Of course she did not.<p>

She was gone two months already, but she wrote to him faithfully, at least once a week. And whole novels at that, describing in detail what she had been up to, what she had learned – most of what had nothing to do with her actual lessons – and about Charlie Weasley.

_Guess what_, she had started her third letter. _You were right (of course). I've found a friend_.

He could almost see her in front of him, jumping up and down, bursting with the need to tell him. And he was happy for her, really. That didn't change that irrational feeling of sadness settling in his bones, the disappointment of losing her so soon. His reply was nonetheless cheerful, congratulating her (_When have I ever been wrong?_) and giving practical tips for all kind of mischief that wouldn't get them into too much trouble.

He was honestly surprised when her letters did not grow shorter. And when she called Charlie her 'second-best friend' he was positively giddy, laughing about his idiotic fear of being left behind again. Hadn't it been him who told her how loyal she was?

_Hufflepuff. Whatever else. Mum was probably a bit disappointed, but surely Dad did his ridiculous victory dance and snapped her out of it. The only problem, my green hair clashes horribly with the yellow on the uniform. Red does the trick, though._

Grinning widely Remus imagined her sitting at her House Table, her young face crunched in concentration while trying to pick the perfect colour to go with her house colours while still driving her mother mad.

_Charlie mocked me about my hair. Asked if I secretly wished to be in Gryffindor with him. I turned his green in revenge. Said it would match his desire to be in Slytherin._ _By the way, do you know any secret passage into the Snake Pit? We've got an idea…_

Unfortunately he didn't. And not for lack of trying. James and Sirius had spent every single night for a fortnight trying to find possible entrances in the whole dungeon. Without success. That didn't stop them from pulling the most clever of pranks on their least favourite house in Hogwarts. Knowing the official entrance and having an invisible cloak at hand did do the trick.

Time until Christmas was flying, as Dora reminded him several times in every letter. (_You'll be there, right? Mum wrote me that she already asked you to come. No excuses!_)

He was there, of course. In fact, he awaited her at King's Cross, impatient and giddy, and he was not disappointed at all. Because as soon as Dora laid eyes on him she started running and threw herself into his arms, all red hair and shining eyes.

"Remus," she shrieked. Then she turned and greeted her parents, who were shaking their heads at her behaviour. But she did not seem to notice. Instead she babbled on excitedly. "There's so much I've got to tell you."

When she spotted a group of redheads in the crowd, she called out, "Charlie."

And there he was, grinning just as wildly as she was, and extended his hand as if he had known Remus all his life. "You must be Dora's very best friend. I'm only her second-best, as she is so fond of reminding me. She told me all about you."

"I might remove that 'best' completely if you don't stop being a brat."

He only shrugged cheekily. "You gotta love her." Then he waved at her parents and was gone again, off with his own family.

Ted shook his head at Remus. "You completely stole our show." But he smiled. "Though that was probably good. Or we might have embarrassed our dear Nymphadora in front of her friend and Christmas would have been a very sour affair."

The girl nodded emphatically at that, then grabbed Remus hand and pulled him towards the exit, trusting that her parents would follow. Not even Andromeda could find it in her to chastise her for her improper behaviour, happy to have her daughter back, to see her smiling and healthy and not at all changed. Instead she turned to her husband and repeated the Weasley boy's words, one eyebrow raised. "You gotta love her."

And they did.

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><p>Well, tell me what you think!<p> 


	4. Ridiculous

Here we go again. Dora is still not grown up, but we definitely are on the way there. Still, I'm not so sure about this one. Wrote and rewrote it the past two nights when I really should have slept - or studied. But, you know how it is.

Anyway, thanks again to **Ron's Maroon Jumper** and **BlueSwallow80** for your wonderful reviews.

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><p>Andromeda was annoyed.<p>

By Remus, who despite trying to be quiet, couldn't quite keep himself from snickering. By Ted, who just sat there, nonchalant as always, nursing his whiskey as if nothing was amiss.

And most of all by Nymphadora, who, ever since she had attempted to start her homework, paced the room, a book in one hand while the other gesticulated wildly at times – if one wanted to find a polite word for the rather rude gestures she definitely hadn't taught her child.

Various muttered remarks disturbed the normally so peaceful silence in the Tonks' home, too loud to ignore, but not loud enough, to understand them properly. Andromeda had the fleeting thought that she probably didn't want to hear them, anyway. Even more so, because she had tried to tell herself often enough, that Nymphadora was already too old to take on better manners. Not that she had ever been willing to do that, no matter what age.

"Nympha-" she spoke up finally, when she felt the need to get up and drag her daughter to a seat by the ear. But her try to end this peacefully was interrupted rudely.

"Not yet, mum." The girl said absentmindedly, not even caring to look at her mother.

Remus snickered again, lowering his book to better observe the unfolding scene, while Ted tried to hide his grin behind his whiskey glass. Unsuccessfully.

"I don't quite get what you find so funny about this," Andromeda had intended her voice to sound more scathing, but it turned out to be half-desperate, half-pleading. And that didn't help at all with her growing irritation. Narrowing her eyes, she looked from one occupant of the room to the next. All of which were ignoring her.

Nymphadora probably hadn't even heard her, Remus had raised his book again, not willing to be on the receiving end of her disapproval, and Ted, knowing her moods better than the rest, stared into the fireplace as if contemplating whether he should get more wood or just throw himself in and be done with it.

But countless years of marriage and, before that, living in a Black household, had taught her nothing if not persistence. So her gaze never wandered from her husband's face, daring him to keep on ignoring her.

Finally he raised his eyes, not without sending a look of betrayal towards Remus – who definitely laughed again – and prepared himself for his wife's chastising.

"Do something," she ordered, one eyebrow raised, looking the very image of a pureblood lady, accustomed to getting her will.

"But Andy," he all but whined. "Leave her be. She's been home for, what? 20 hours –"

"Exactly, and she's already driving me mad."

"Could you two stop being so loud? Or go argue somewhere else. I'm trying to work here." Nymphadora glared at them for a second, then returned to her pacing and muttering, never noticing the dazzled look on her parents' faces or how Remus started shaking with silent laughter.

"Did she just?" Andromeda's voice was almost toneless, while Ted nodded slowly. Straightening her back, she sent a last glare at the other adults in the room, cowering under her glare, and opened her mind to put an end to that nonsense herself – only to be interrupted again.

"This is ridiculous," her daughter snapped and, for the first time this evening, she felt that the two of them were agreeing on something.

"Indeed," she drawled. When there was no further reaction, she turned towards their guest, who was still inappropriately amused by her annoyance. "You," she snapped, causing both men two flinch. Ted, who realized he was off the hook, grinned and leaned back into his armchair, enjoying his drink. Remus, however, eyed her warily, knowing he couldn't pull himself out of this one.

"Yes?" he asked almost timidly.

"_Do something_."

"But how? If even you tried without success -"

Andromeda didn't let herself be swayed by his innocent eyes. Instead she glared in her best imitation of her own mother. "I don't care. Get her to stop, or get her out of here. She _always _listens to you."

There was no point arguing that. Sighing quietly, Remus got up and slowly walked over to where the girl was still pacing, careful to stay out of her way.

"Dora," he asked softly, succeeding in her raising her head the tiniest bit, eyes still fixed on her book. Taking this small reaction as encouragement, he stepped closer and continued, "We need to go upstairs, or your mother will without doubt grow insane."

Throwing a lazy glance around, Dora nodded and, without interrupting her movement, turned towards the door. "Come," she ordered before she disappeared, leaving behind stunned silence.

Remus couldn't help the smug smile forming on his lips, though he did try to hide it until he was safely out of the room himself. No need to call Andromeda's anger down on him. Not before dinner, anyways.

Their muffled voices followed him upstairs, making him grin even wider.

"How _did_ he do that?"

"It's a gift, I guess. His Hogwarts years must have taught him how to deal with Black blood."

That they did, indeed.

Dora's room was still in utter chaos. And although there were now clothes and books strewn around instead of her beloved toy dragons, he did know that she still had them in a small box in her closet, always prepared to surprise – and embarrass – Charlie who still insisted on his childhood wish of working with dragons. Then again, Dora was still set on becoming an Auror, too.

When he entered, she sat on the ground in front of her bed, her face almost desperate.

"How am I ever going to make this?" she pouted.

"What exactly?" Clearing a space for himself, Remus sat down next to her.

"OWLs." Dora answered, not really helpful.

"Last time I checked, you were pretty near top of your class," he trailed of when he saw her frown. "What changed?"

"Snape did," somehow he couldn't imagine that happening. Because, really, could he get worse?

Remus had been very surprised when he found out, that Snape had returned to Hogwarts to teach Potions. Even when ignoring their ongoing rivalry – if that was the right name for it – and the resulting unpopularity of the Slytherin, he never seemed like someone to willingly spend his days with other people or, worse, children. Snape was brilliant at Potions, but teaching was another matter altogether.

Before he could inquire further, however, Dora continued, "And Trenton."

"The new Defence teacher?"

"Yes, and he's a real bastard," for a moment she seemed to reconsider that, then shook her head. "No. I mean, he is, but he's real good. It's just that the past two teachers were rubbish, and now he expects us to just be able to do all the stuff anyway. And he just teaches what he thinks important and made up his own curriculum. He wants us to cast _nonverbally_."

The way she was throwing her arms up in frustration, she seemed so much like Peter had so often when he complained about all the work they had to do, that Remus couldn't help but laugh out loud. Which brought Dora's wrath down on him.

"Do you think this is funny?", she asked, eyes wide and cheeks coloured red. He tried to stop laughing. Really.

She glared at him. A minute, maybe two, but when he didn't seem to stop anytime soon, her face grew softer.

"So, this is first year all over again?" Remus looked at her curiously. "I worry too much, and you tell me I'm going to make it anyway?"

Well, that wasn't the reason for his undue amusement, but why point that out, when she seemed to get some confidence from it. "Exactly."

"But-", she pointed at the book and he took it from her, not even glancing at what made her become so desperate.

"You told me almost ten years ago that you wanted to become an Auror." She nodded. "And since then, you've never changed your mind. Not once. Not even when Charlie can't stop going on about how _wicked_ dragons are."

That made her grin, because her friend really had tried to wake her interest in them, and even asked her constantly to accompany him to a dragon shelter in Romania during the summer holidays. Which she probably would do, no matter what she wanted to do with her life.

"You're not about to give up on that, because some teacher, and a competent one at that, actually wants you to do something to earn your goal, are you?"

Dora opened her mouth, but Remus didn't wait to hear whether it was to protest or agree. "Auror training will be hard. Don't get me wrong," he said smiling, "I know you will make it. Not only because you are talented and hellishly stubborn, but also because you promised me once you'd make it and take care of all the bad guys out there. And what am I to do without your protection?"

His voice was light, playful even, and her face brightened, but it almost hurt him to see that. Of course, he wanted her to be happy and fulfil her wishes. Auror training would even make sure, that she would be able to protect herself from most ordinary dangers. But the catch was, as an Auror she wouldn't only face ordinary things. She'd be in the front lines no matter what happened. During the last war, the Aurors had died by the dozens.

Dumbledore had been cryptic about Voldemort's downfall. What if he was not gone? What if there would come someone else, equally as dark and cruel? How could he ever stand by, knowing that she would be out there, fighting something he, in his own time, hadn't been able to defeat?

"You're right," she exclaimed and he couldn't even find it in himself to answer with his customary '_I always am._' That didn't went unnoticed, and she turned serious again. "What?"

"Do your parents know about your plans?", that was not what bothered him, but he would not dampen her mood by admitting his fears. There was no way she would stay a child for all eternity to be kept safe at home. Knowing her, it was obvious that she would fight for the light side when the time came, Auror or not.

She shrugged casually, which told him everything. "I've been talking about is since before Hogwarts."

"So they don't know that you're still serious about it?" Dora avoided his eyes. "You don't want to tell them." And he wasn't surprised about that at all.

"You know Mum." That he did. She would throw a tantrum – in a most lady like way, of course, but the end effect would be the same.

"Ted will understand," Remus offered quietly.

"Will he?" Uncertainty shone in her eyes.

"Well, he won't like it, and he'll try to dissuade you from it. You _are_ his little girl," he smiled when Dora groaned in frustration. "But eventually he will understand, and he will support you every step of the way."

For a moment, she observed him closely, then she asked in a small voice, "And you?"

Remus sighed. Of course, she would ask that. "I told you about the war. How horrible it was. How desperate _we_ were at times. I have never lied to you, so," laying a hand on her shoulder, he looked her right into the eyes, willing her to feel rather than hear what he meant. "I don't like the thought of you fighting and being in danger. I will fear for you on every mission they will give you. I guess I won't even be able to sleep until I know you've come home safely.

"But," and the small flicker of her eyes told him that she was relieved there _was_ a 'but', no matter how much she knew that he believed in her. "I know that you are good. I know that you want this," he shrugged. "I'll be beside you no matter what."

Remus guessed his speech had sounded a bit cheesy, but it was the truth, and Dora didn't seem to care anyway, because she threw herself into his arms and he held her close.

"Thank you," she breathed.

"Always."

When they parted, Remus gestured towards the book that had started this whole scene. "What do you think if the two of us, and Charlie, if he wants to, make a little trip into the Forbidden Forest tomorrow afternoon."

Dora stared at him as if he had gone mad, causing him to laugh. "What? Do you want to just abandon us out there, so we have no other choice but learn how to defend ourselves? And fast at that?"

"While that idea has merit, too," he grinned cheekily, dodging her pitiful attempt to hit him. "And I'm sure your mother would be all for it, after you have driven her all but insane earlier, I thought more about getting into Hogwarts wards, where you will be allowed to do magic. So we'll be able to improvise a little lesson in Defence. In which," he added slightly pompous, "I happen to be quite good at."

Dora squealed and hugged him again, before hurrying to her feet and looking for parchment and quill. "I've got to write to Charlie," she said excitedly.

And when she had done just that, she sprinted to the door, turning again to grin at him widely and calling out a heartfelt 'Thank you', and then she was gone. Off to find their family owl and tell her parents the good news that she would not only _not_ annoy them the next day, but also further her education.

Andromeda would be thrilled.

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><p>So, I've already started the next chapter, though I'll doubt it will up before the next weekend, cause I've got an exam on thursday (which I really be studying for right now).<p>

Thanks for reading! Tell me what you think, please.


	5. Loyalty

Hah, I managed to pass my exam AND write a new chapter (and started the next one). I'm kind of proud of myself ;-)  
>Anyway, here it is. Hope you enjoy it!<p>

And, of course, a big thank you to **BlueSwallow80** for your review!

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><p>„Where is he?" Dora burst through the door to his living quarters without bothering to knock. Her hair was pure black for once and her Auror uniform was wrinkled as if she had thrown it on in a hurry. Which she probably had before storming to Hogwarts at three in the morning<p>

Remus looked up at her heavily breathing form, at a loss for words. He had not even tried to go to bed, even though he had not slept in two days. His mind was in utter chaos, tired from the full moon that had just passed, and even more so from the all but impossible things that had taken course beneath it.

"Where. Is. He," she asked again, pressing the words out between clenched teeth. He did not know whether she was upset or worried or – something else.

"Who?" he finally questioned tonelessly, not even trying to act innocent. It was more like he did not know the answer himself. Who was that man, indeed, who had escaped from Hogwarts and the dementor's Kiss last night?

Dora deflated at his tired demeanour, and let herself fall into a chair next to him. "So he's not a traitor after all?"

At his asking glance, she elaborated. "I read the report back in the Auror office. Someone told that Harry insists that Sirius is innocent."

When she got only a noncommittal shrug in response, she asked impatiently, "And? Is he?"

"I don't know," there was a distinct kind of helplessness in Remus' voice. "Yes. Maybe." Their eyes met, and his were so desperate, they made her flinch as if burned. "I want him to be. But then – He was twelve years in Azkaban. I let him rot there," Panic crept into his words. "I hated him."

"You didn't," Dora interrupted him almost softly, laying a hand on his forearm. Ignoring his shocked 'What?', she continued. "You never hated him. You hated what he did and what he had become, but never what he was before. You couldn't have."

They stayed silent for a moment, Remus avoiding her gaze, staring out the window as if the night sky held all the answers he was searching for. Finally, he nodded.

"Because that would have meant that all the years before, all my life really, was a lie. Because then we never could have been the brothers we claimed to be." It was a painful confession.

Dora cocked her head, "What happened?"

Remus took his time. "Peter is alive," he then said and fell silent again as if that explained everything.

Somehow it did. Then again, it brought up a hundred, a thousand more questions. None of which they could answer – or even wanted to, in some cases.

"So it was him," it was not a question, still her voice was laced with wonder and something akin to disgust. "_So he took his queen and his son and told only his best friend where they were going to hide. But he was not the only one afraid, so this friend doubted and wavered and fell._"

Remus looked up in surprise, a faint smile playing on his lips. "You still remember that?"

"Of course. It was the first story you ever told me. When we promised we'd stay friends."

That made him wince. He knew what happened to promises such like this. They would be torn apart by time and fears.

"They thought it was me." A simple confession, opening up abysses and long-forgotten wounds.

"Then they were stupid," Dora bristled, her narrowed eyes making clear that she would not apologize for talking ill of his dead friends. "You're the most loyal person I've ever met."

It amazed him time and again how utterly convicted she seemed of his goodness, how highly she spoke of him. And it was funny, really, how much he depended on her approval, how much this young woman's friendship meant to him.

Before he knew what he was doing, he told her everything about that night mere hours – maybe an eternity – ago, somehow trusting that she would not turn away when she heard what he had almost done. What his carelessness could have done to Harry and his friends. Or that he had been willing to take a life so easily, no matter how serious Peter's crimes might have been.

"So he escaped," and the growl in her voice was meant for the rat, not her cousin. "It's a shame I'm still in training and cannot be assigned to the team searching for Sirius. I could help him. I hope he's smart enough to leave Britain."

"You never know with Sirius," somehow Remus found it in himself to chuckle, despite being dead tired and in emotional turmoil. "I might follow him," he then offered, not really knowing himself where that thought came from.

She was not happy about that, but not surprised either. "The school year's not yet over –"

He waved her argument away. "Snape will without doubt leak my condition to the school. I'd rather leave than be thrown out." Despite being used to losing his jobs regularly, there was bitterness in his tone. Hogwarts had been his home all those years ago. Leaving yet again, and in shame at that, was painful.

"With Peter and Sirius alive, I might have a purpose again, other than trying to earn enough to get through another month. A life on the run doesn't sound so bad when you're not alone."

Dora stayed silent at that. She knew her parents had offered him a home and money and a job more than once, but he had always been adamant on managing on his own. _I don't want charity_, he had declared with that quiet determination of his that made it so hard to argue with him.

So instead of fighting, she simply stated, "You know you are keyed into my wards. So if the two of you need a safe place to catch your breath every once in a while, you know where to find me."

Gratefulness shone in his eyes, causing her to shrug. "You are always welcome in my home," she muttered.

They lounged into a companionable silence, only interrupted by Remus' "It's pretty late. Maybe you should go to bed?" and her noncommittal humming, after which they stayed right where they were, comfortable in each other's presence.

The night was almost over anyway, and come morning they would have to fill the roles recent events had loaded onto them. Better to enjoy the peace while it lasted. Their storm was coming up fast.

Only after the sun had risen and the castle was slowly starting to wake did they get up, still tired, but more calm than before, like it was so often the case when they spent time together.

Dora opened her arms and held him close, transferring her invitation once more with something far more honest than words.

"Tell the mutt I want to meet him. I need to see for myself if he lives up to your stories."

Remus laughed. "Don't worry. He will even surpass them."

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><p>Their first meeting began rather awkward.<p>

Despite knowing how much time had passed, Sirius somehow expected to see his baby cousin as she had been before, painfully young and throwing a temper tantrum because she did not want to wear some dress her mother had laid out for her, or fighting mock-duels with him and the boys.

Instead she was all grown up and training to be an Auror, ready to go out and leave her mark on the world, eyeing him not with hero-worship but sceptical calculation.

At the same time, Dora struggled to recognize her jovial, handsome and always careless cousin in this haggard man with a gaunt face and haunted eyes, whose mouth had not laughed in years, and whose hands could not stop fidgeting nervously.

"Sirius," she said slowly, probing how the name felt on her lips, how its bearer reacted to it.

"Tonks." The ghost of a smile flickered over both their faces.

"You remember that, huh?"

"You made sure that no one could forget," his toothy grin caused her to sigh dramatically, all the while trying to ignore how that gesture made his face look like a skull.

"I was a real terror, right?"

"My dear Dora," Remus' chuckle interrupted them from the doorway. "Don't act all innocent, you still _are_ a terror."

The young woman cried out indignantly, making the two men laugh out loud. Remus stepped fully into the room, put a tea tray onto the table, and sat down next to Dora.

"You let him call you Dora?" Sirius asked, still smiling.

"It's still Tonks to you," she replied snootily. "I dare you."

None of them would have admitted it aloud, but they were all glad that the almost choking tension, that had settled around them the moment Sirius had knocked on Dora's door, had disappeared.

And while it would still take a long time until Sirius would be able to relax again, he at least stopped looking over his should every couple of seconds as if expecting Aurors or dementors to jump up from behind to couch.

"How did Remus here convinced you that I'm innocent?" That last word seemed odd coming out of the escapee's mouth.

He had cleaned up since Azkaban and his clothes were mostly whole, but he had still that starved, half-mad look of a caged man.

As if reading her thoughts, he chuckled hoarsely. "I know I don't look the part."

Dora shrugged, trying to look casual, but it was obvious she was uncomfortable. "He believed in you," then, after glancing at her friend, she added, "Even though he had the most reasons not to. And I have come to trust him."

Sirius watched them curiously, seemingly reading them, seeing beyond what they knew themselves. Then he leaned back, apparently satisfied, and smirked. "And why is that," he asked like the cat watching the canary, getting ready for the kill.

Dora seemed oblivious to his smug demeanour, or at least she pretended to be. "We've been friends ever since –" stopping herself abruptly, she changed course, although not before the reappeared light in her cousin's eyes dimmed a bit. "He told me stories, and visited whenever he was in Britain. We exchanged letters when he was not. I –"

Smirk growing even wider, Sirius cut her rambling off. "And when are you going to tell your parents that you're in love with your childhood friend? And he with you?"

Stunned silence settled around them as Dora turned a bright shade of red and Remus did his best to murder his friend with a withering glare. But none of them, Sirius noted with growing satisfaction, denied it.

"That will really be a –"

"What do you plan on doing next?" Dora stumbled over the words, voice slightly raised to drown him out.

She threw a glance towards Remus who was sitting stiffly, but took it as a good sign that he had not moved away from her. How could that mutt possibly know?

Looking back at Sirius, she realized with a strange mixture of victory and regret, that her question had brought out the shadows in his eyes again.

"Dumbledore," he began reluctantly, his velvety voice disappearing back into whatever abyss he had found it in. "He wants me to reopen Grimmauld Place."

The darkness in his tone, as well as Remus' grim nod – which had thankfully dispersed the sudden awkwardness between them – surprised her. She knew that the ancestral London Estate of the Blacks was at Grimmauld Place and, according to her mother's stories, it was not the most cheerful of places, but this air of hostility spoke of something worse.

When it was obvious that her cousin would not continue, she turned towards Remus, waiting impatiently for an explanation.

"After our fifth year," he said slowly, giving their friend the chance to interrupt him. "Sirius was expected to do something he didn't want, so he run away and vowed never to return."

"What was it?"

A look passed between the two men. "My dear mother demanded that I remember my roots and join the Death Eaters," Sirius chuckled humourlessly. "Naturally, I refused. But she was never one to accept a 'no'. I left before she decided to use the Imperius."

With his eyes seeing long-gone, far-away things, he added absentmindedly, "She always had a hand for the Unforgivables. Bella herself could have learned something from her Cruciatus."

Dora did not know what shocked her more, that Walburga Black would use the Torture Curse on her own son – which should not surprise her, really, her family _was_ known for insanity – or how casual Sirius spoke about it.

It made her heart roar inside her chest, reminding her once again why she had been sorted into Hufflepuff. But when she saw Remus clenching his hands next to her, she pushed away the need to jump up and crash something or, even better, find someone of her blood relatives and give them a good tongue-lashing and a taste of why the other Auror trainees were afraid of her temper.

Instead she lay her own hand on his, knowing that she had always been able to calm him down and spend some comfort.

"And Dumbledore expects you to go back there, why exactly?"

"The greater good, of course," Sirius smiled darkly, with hardly concealed bitterness. "He is reinstating the Order of the Phoenix. And could there be a better symbol than having its headquarters in the home of one of our darkest families? But don't worry, I should be used to being a prisoner in hell by now."

Dora looked at him intensely. It was kind of true. He _would_ be a prisoner, but she would be damned if she let him rot there and not do something to help him heal.

"You're not alone," she said.

His gaze trailed down to where her hand was still laying on Remus'. "No," he nodded, and his smile seemed to be more honest than before. "I am not."

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><p>Thank you for reading! Reviews make me happy!<p> 


	6. Tearing Down Walls

Here we go, another chapter, and with Sirius giving tips on relationships - or rather trying to knock some sense into them.

Thank you to **reader**, **VlightPhase** and **BlueSwallow80**.

Hope you like this one as well.

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><p><span>Tearing Down Walls<span>

„Why are you so bloody stubborn?" Sirius looked at his friend over the rim of his whiskey glass, eyes slightly narrowed.

"Are you –" Remus stopped himself, not wanting to put up with that old name pun that had stopped being funny before their first week in Hogwarts had been over.

"Yes I am," Sirius answered nonetheless, though not amused either. "You're perfect for each other."

"We are _not_ perfect. She's got her whole life ahead of her."

"And you are old and poor and damaged. Merlin, I've heard your stupid arguments a thousand time. I _don't _want to go over them again."

"Then stop bringing up this subject."

Remus was frustrated. All had been good before his friend had started making constant comments about him and Dora. Until the both of them could no longer ignore the grain of truth in his mockery. Things had started to go downhill from there.

He had known her since her birth, tagging along when Sirius had went to meet his baby cousin for the first time. And then he had become her friend and confidant.

She had a crush on him, nothing more. It would be over pretty soon and then it would only be awkward if he would react any different to her advances. They were friends, and he wanted them to _stay_ friends. That would not happen if he gave in to her pleading and his own bloody feelings – which really weren't helping.

But this was not only between them. What would he tell Andromeda and Ted if he asked out their daughter with whom he had spent hours and days alone during her childhood. 'Hey there, don't worry I was waiting until she was of age and out of Hogwarts before I made my move on her.' Brilliant idea.

"You should at least talk to her about this." Remus opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius stopped him with a glare. "She _is_ old enough to know what she wants. And, believe me, she cherishes your friendship so much, she wouldn't risk it if she wasn't sure about this."

"Funny, to me it seems like she has completely lost her mind."

"You certainly are as stubborn as only old men can be."

Remus did not deem that worthy of an answer. Instead he made his way over to the door, intent on getting out of the house for a while to clear his head, and maybe find some Death Eaters to keep him occupied.

"Damn you, Remus. Don't run away and leave me here all alone," Sirius shouted, but to no avail. His friend did not even look back. Muttering obscenities under his breath, he did not bother to get up and run after Remus. They were all so very adamant on him staying put and not leaving the house, and he was not so sure he could stick to that, if he went down now and saw the front door open right in front of him, with freedom so alluringly close.

Instead he refilled his glass and gripped it with bony hands, refusing to give into the urge to throw it against the nearest wall. Ever since coming back into his childhood home, he had destroyed a whole wagon load of dishes. Seeing his mother's good china shatter on the floor had been very satisfactory. Doing it in front of her thrice damned portrait even more so.

He kept sitting there in the library, the only room in the house that seemed the least bit inviting, due to Remus – always a book lover – taking care of it. It would probably be a good idea to do some more cleaning and sorting through his family's stuff, lest the children encountered some of the more dangerous artefacts that were bound to be lying around, but he could not get himself to care.

Being locked up here, of all places, was not doing him any good. It was hard to escape the nightmares the dementors left him when waking up brought no relief either. The first moments after opening his eyes always left him in a panic, thinking he was back home during the holidays after fifth year, expecting his mother to show up any second to start yelling and cursing.

Remembering all that had happened and why he was back, was not helping at all.

When he heard the front door open, he was pleasantly surprised, thinking that Remus had changed his mind and come back. But just as he wanted to call out and apologize and try to be better company this time, someone else's voice interrupted him.

"Remus," Dora sounded almost reluctant. "Are you here?" Her steps came up the stairs and closer to the library door. Everyone knew that was where the werewolf could be found most of the time.

"Remus," she repeated, sticking her head into the room, eyes hopeful at seeing the fire burning. But when she recognized Sirius, her face fell. "Oh."

"Only me," he offered, caught between being hurt at her obvious disappointment and relief at having another human being there with him.

"So, Remus is out?" When he nodded, she sighed and entered, sitting down in Remus' usual seat, as if that would call him back.

"Yeah," Sirius nodded, then raised his bottle. "Want some?"

For a moment it seemed like she would refuse, no doubt thinking about the Order meeting later or her job. But she extended her hand, shrugging. "Why not."

He poured her a generous amount. "You don't look good."

"Geez, thanks cousin. You don't look that healthy either. Still not over your twelve years long island vacation?" her tone was biting, but as soon as the words left her mouth, she looked down apologetically. "I'm –"

"He'll come around."

At that her head snapped up, eyes filled with hope and suspicion. "What?"

"Remus is stubborn as hell. But so are you. It will take some time, but he will see eventually, that you are serious about this."

"He thinks I'm not –" Dora sputtered.

"He thinks he is not good enough for you," Sirius smirked. "As I'm sure he has told you a hundred times already."

"Only once or twice actually. He usually runs away _before_ we can even argue." Sighing, she downed the amber liquid and held out her glass for him to refill it.

"He values you above most other things. He wants you to be happy, but," after hesitating for a second, Sirius decided to be blunt, "He doesn't want to be hurt again."

"What?" Dora blurted out, voice laced with disbelief.

"He'll deny it, of course. In fact, I don't think he's even aware of it. It's just," he looked up helplessly. He had never been good at all things containing emotions. "After Halloween – He lost everything and, somehow, then he found you, and you caught him and helped him up again.

"He loves you. Not only romantically. Also in a deeper kind of way. Because you've been there for him after we have left him."

Suddenly a thought crossed his mind and made him laugh, which caused Dora to look at him strangely. "It's – Well, the two of you have been friends for longer than we have. You know," at that, bitterness crept into his voice, "Our all-encompassing, unbreakable friendship. Brothers for life. All that nonsense.

"You were what, five?, when you met at the funeral, and still your word was worth more than our silly vows." He leaned back, by then talking mostly to himself. "You said you'd be his friend, and you were. Just like that. I wonder where it all went wrong for us."

They sat in silence for a while, Sirius pondering the shattered pieces of their bond, Dora thinking intently about his words, too caught up in her own problems to offer him any comfort.

"So you say, he thinks that this is just – a _mood_?" she blinked several times. "He thinks I've got a crush, like a silly school girl on her teacher, and when I've had a shag I'll let him fall and be on my way."

Despite it being inappropriate, Sirius had to chuckle at her being so upset, but he sobered up fast when she sent him a withering glare.

"Are you sure it is _not_ a mood?" it seemed like she wanted to jump up and hit him, but she caught herself and thought about his words.

"Yes," she finally offered. "This is nothing like with the boys at school or Damien in Auror training. That was nice and all, but –" She had no words, but Sirius thought he understood her nonetheless.

"What do I do if he," Dora trailed off, uncertain, maybe even a bit afraid.

"He loves you," Sirius repeated his earlier sentiment. "It is obvious."

At that she chuckled. "To all but us, you mean?"

But he shook his head. "I'm sure he knows. He would just never act on it. He's," searching for the right word, he threw a look at the door leading to the rest of his hated home. "He is terrified of losing you."

He felt like he needed to elaborate further. "I know he is afraid of losing me. When I came back I – Well, I know he still cares for me and we are friends, but he keeps his distance. He's always ready to jump up and be out of the door. All to save himself some of the pain when I leave him again."

"_When_ you leave him again," the tense protectiveness in her voice made him smile.

"Yes. I mean, it's only a matter of time. I'm an escaped convict, innocent or not. The Ministry is searching for me. And I'm sure one day, probably soon, I'll snap and refuse to be left behind when all of you go out onto a mission or other. One day, I won't be coming back."

It was a rare occurrence for Sirius to be so pragmatic. His nonchalance added weight to his statement.

"When he quit his teaching job, he told me he'd rather leave than be thrown out. That's the same thing then?"

"Yes."

"But how do I make him see that I don't plan on leaving him anytime soon. Or let _him_ leave?" she asked in a frustrated tone.

Before Sirius had a chance to answer, though, the door opened and the very subject of their discussion entered the library, an apologetic expression on his face.

"I'm sorry, Sirius, I shouldn't have –" when his eyes fell on Dora, he stopped cold, eyes darting between them suspiciously. "I'm sorry," he then repeated, voice far more polite, detached even. "I didn't know you had a guest."

Again, Sirius was interrupted before he could open his mouth – and possibly defuse the situation before it blew up into their faces.

"Guest?" Dora snapped. "Is that what I am now? Just another Order member. Or maybe nothing more than Sirius' distant cousin coming over for tea?"

Remus flinched at her tone, but did not make a move to calm her down. Instead he turned back around. "I'll leave you to it then. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important."

"The hell you will," when it was obvious that he did not intend to stay and talk, Dora jumped to her feet and all but ran across the room, grabbing Remus' arm and dragging him back in and towards his seat. After pushing him into it, she did not sit back down again, but stayed right in front of him, glaring at him with an intensity that would have made her mother proud.

"You will not leave this room, Remus Lupin, until you have come to your senses."

He looked up at her uneasily. "Dora –"

"And don't you dare call me that when you don't mean it."

Sirius decided that this was his clue to leave. He did not want to be caught in the crossfire, which was more than probable if he interpreted the pleading glances his friend was sending him right. But Remus knew his stance on things. No need to be pulled into what would surely turn out to be a pretty ugly affair.

After his one possible saviour had closed the door behind him, Remus sighed. "Do-," he began, then corrected himself, "Tonks." She winced at that, which made him feel guilty, but she had insisted on it. "I don't know what you want to hear."

She deflated somewhat at his tone. "I want you to stop being so bloody defensive when it comes to us."

"There is no _us_ –"

"Due to you denying that it could be."

They glared at each other.

"Sirius said –"

"So Sirius was giving you tips on relationships?" Remus mouth curled into a mocking smile. "Don't you know that he's never been one to keep a girl for longer than a month? Or do you think he's gathered some life-changing experience in Azkaban." He was glad their friend had left them alone. It was not his intention to hurt Sirius, too.

"I didn't ask for advice on girls, but on _you_." That, Dora noted with smug satisfaction, shut him up. Only not for very long.

"And what was it that Professor Sirius had to say about me?"

She regarded him thoughtfully for a second, then decided to be honest. "That you don't want to be hurt." He clearly had not expected that. "This is not some hormone-driven thing, Remus. I wouldn't do that to you. I –"

"You don't know what you'd be getting yourself into."

Anger sparked again inside her stomach. "That –"

He cut her off again, voice strangely soft. "Maybe I don't want you to be hurt either."

"If this is about you being too old and a bloody werewolf –"

"Of course it is," he said, still calm, making her feel foolish about her outbursts. "You're an Auror. What do you think the Ministry will say, when you decide to go out with a Dark Creature? A half-breed?"

"I don't care what they say," her voice was almost desperate by now. "I know you want me to think about my career and life and whatnot. But I don't care about any of that, if I cannot be happy. And being with you has always made me happy. And now we could be – something so much better than what we've been up until now."

"Or it will fall apart as fast as it has come upon us," he smiled sadly, "and then _we_'d be nothing at all."

Only part of her registered what he really meant to say with that. The other, much bigger part, had halted at the fact that he had said 'what has come upon _us_'. As in both of them.

"So you do feel the same," he looked up sheepishly, no doubt cursing himself for his foolish choice of words. But before he could attempt to twist the words around, she continued hastily. "Don't lie to me. You promised once you'd never do that."

Remus stayed silent for what seemed like an eternity, looking at everything but her. "Yes," he finally admitted, still avoiding her eyes. "But that doesn't make it right."

Dora laughed at that, not happy in any way, but both, desperate and relieved. "Sometimes I think this is the only right thing in the world."

That brought a smile on his lips. During her teenage years she had read quite a couple of cheesy romance novels. This sounded like something right out of one of them. The young, beautiful and, of course, misunderstood heroine trying to make her chosen one see her undying love for him. Though he really would not have anything against a happy end for them.

Remus opened his arms for her. "Come here."

"Does that mean you're giving in?" she asked, her voice laced with doubt.

"No," he admitted. "That means, that I don't want to fight with you."

That was most likely the best she could get at this point. So she gave him a small smile and let herself sink into his embrace, glad to at least be able to hold him again. Those past weeks had been horrible.

And, she guessed, this was a first step into the right direction. Sirius had been right. They were both stubborn. Now she only had to prove, that she was far more so than Remus could ever be. Black blood, and all that.

"I don't want to lose you," Remus murmured into her hair.

"You won't," she promised.

* * *

><p>Only a fortnight later, Sirius had to prove the truth of his words and get himself killed, and in a most avoidable way at that, leaving Remus desperate and grieving and more set than ever to not let anything above friendship happen between them.<p>

The walls he was erecting between them were almost visible to her, and the distance hurt, even more so because her cousin's death had hit her harder than she had thought possible.

But she had managed to get through to Remus once before. Somehow, she would manage again. And this time, she would not let him leave, ever again.

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><p>Reviews make me happy. Thank you for reading!<p> 


	7. Always By Your Side

Thank you to **95Echelon**, **BlueSwallow80** and **VlightPhase** for reviewing!

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><p>vii – Always By Your Side<p>

Remus stood hesitatingly in the doorway to the kitchen, watching with a conflicted expression how Ted cut the ingredients for lunch with practised ease. Andromeda was sitting at the table, coffee mug in one hand, while being completely absorbed by the newspaper.

None of them seemed to have noticed his presence and simply continued with what was a well-known ritual of their family. Remus was not sure if he really wanted to disturb them. Not only because they were such a peaceful sight, enjoying each other's presence in silence, with only the occasional loving glance thrown in. Also – and the Marauder part of him hated to admit that – because he was afraid.

So he rather lingered there, frozen between the urge to flee back upstairs where Dora was waiting for him and the desperate wish to just get it over and done with.

"Do you think talking to him will send him running?" Ted suddenly spoke up, tone conversational.

"Maybe coffee will do the trick," Andromeda answered contemplatively.

"You mean as a bait? Luring him into the supposed safety before we strike?" His wife nodded emphatically, barely managing to hide her smile.

Remus felt heat rushing into his cheeks. Of course they had noticed him. Clearing his throat, he made a small step forward, only to freeze again.

"How about you just sit down?" Andromeda looked at him, eyes filled with amusement.

"Yes, do that," Ted added, voice filled with mock-concern. "I don't know how we could explain to Dora that her husband-to-be fainted and knocked himself out before he could bring us the good news."

Remus' brain needed a couple of moments to register the older man's words. Then, however, his head snapped up, surprised. And he was still speechless.

"I do believe you've broken him." Ted only beamed at his wife. "Never thought I'd see him at a loss for words."

"How?" Remus managed to sputter, as he finally made his way over to the table, to sink into one of the chairs right before he thought his legs would give out.

"Remus, dear," Andromeda reached out to pat his cheek, "it was only a matter of time."

"And it took you long enough," Ted added chastising. Due to him still holding the knife, the smile on his face was not really comforting. When would the storm of protests and disapproving declarations of 'we trusted you' come? "Even Sirius knew."

Remus groaned at that, half in annoyance at being reminded of countless 'motivating' speeches by his friend, half in pain at being reminded of said friend's death.

Both of them were looking at him expectantly, which only made him want to bury his face in his hands to pretend he was anywhere than here. But then, he straightened his back and scolded himself. He had faced worse things than this. Even thinking back on McGonagall's face when they had turned her – but no, this was definitely _not_ the time for remembering old pranks. Especially while he was about to ask for something as serious as this.

Nodding once to himself, he got up again and looked at his hosts. "Since you already seem to know, I'll just – I want to ask you for your daughter's hand." They stared at him for a moment, faces unmoved. Nervously he added, "Would you consider –"

At his formal tone – and probably the sweat on his forehead, too – Ted started grinning.

"There's no one I'd rather have as my son-in-law," he said. And, somehow, Remus believed him.

"Geez, Remus," Dora's voice came from the door, "I thought you'd never get it done."

Sputtering he turned around. "What – How?"

"You took so long, I felt I needed to see if you fainted somewhere," then she added mockingly, "As an Auror I _am_ supposed to save my fair share of damsels in mistress."

"You didn't think we'd do something to him, did you?" Ted asked disbelievingly, carelessly waving around the knife in his hand.

"Nah," she shook her head, though the small glance towards her mother betrayed her doubts.

"Please," Andromeda snorted, "As if you have ever listened to me before, even _if_ I had any objections."

"So you don't -" Dora and Remus asked, looking at each other sheepishly.

Then Remus ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, thank you. Really. This is –"

"It's only something to make you officially a part of the family," Ted declared, voice firm and honest. "Though I am a bit disappointed, that both of you had doubts about our reaction. We've known for ages."

All tension left Remus' shoulders, and the smile on his lips was wide and real. Funny, really, how worried he had been after fighting this so long himself. He still had his doubts at times, mostly when Dora was out, at work or on some Order mission, when it was easier to ignore how _right_ they felt. But this was usually fast forgotten, when Dora came home tired and weary, and a simple hug or kiss made her face brighten and her back straighten with new energy.

Right now she seemed just as relieved at him, and made her way over to lean into his warmth. His arms wrapped around her of their own accord.

"Look at them," Ted sighed dramatically. "To be young and in love."

Andromeda chuckled, and shook her head at her husband's antics.

"Well," Dora said quietly, voice serious even while her content smile never wavered. "I do hope we'll follow your example and stay happy until we're old and grey."

No joke followed. Only confident nods. "I have no doubt that you will."

* * *

><p>"You look beautiful, my dear," Dora blushed at that. She did not seem a day older than four, radiating vitality like she always did when he had taken her on 'adventures'.<p>

"Dad," she groaned, caught between embarrassment and utter joy – for the happiness in her father's eyes and because this day had really come, despite all the obstacles and arguing.

"What," he exclaimed playfully. "I'm allowed to be sentimental right before I give my daughter over to another man. No matter that I consider him my son already."

He had said it before, still she threw herself into his arms, whispering a heartfelt 'Thank you' into his ear.

During all those month in which they had barely spoken, because Remus refused to 'condemn her to a life of shame' due to him being 'too old and too poor and, oh, don't forget that small part about him being a werewolf', Ted had sat down with him, slowly undermining her husband-to-be's resistance without seeming to do so.

She had never asked how he had done it, but she guessed her mother had thrown in a couple of words, too, so it really was no wonder that Remus had given in eventually.

Dora would have managed that on her own, of course, but the war and their position in it made it easy to let her pride go and hurry the whole process up. Who knew how much time they had left.

"Well then, lets get you in there."

Both of them pretended not to notice the tears gathering in Ted's eyes. Instead they smiled and he took her arm, squeezing it once, and then they entered the small church where he and Andromeda had been wed a lifetime ago.

Similar to their wedding, there were few guests. Ted's mother, almost-blind by now but smiling nonetheless and Kingsley, who had been her mentor during Auror training and one of the few colleagues who could be trusted.

When they had reached their destination at the small altar, Ted found it not at all difficult to lay his daughter's hand into one of the man awaiting them in impatience and happy disbelief.

"How beautiful you are," Remus breathed in wonder, the light in his amber eyes rivalling even the sun.

Ted chuckled softly. "That's what I said." They did not seem to hear him, but looked at each other intensely, love radiating off them like warmth.

He nodded once at the waiting priest and stepped towards his seat next to Andromeda.

"I am happy for them," she whispered, contentment written all over her face, a rare sight these days, with their side being slowly driven back. "May they have all the time in the world."

* * *

><p>"Have you put up additional wards around your flat?" Ted asked later, when they sat together enjoying a calm evening before everything went back to business and war. "You can always stay with us. There is more than enough room."<p>

Remus smiled at him, truly grateful, but shook his head. "I went about it last week with Bill Weasley. He's brilliant with wards."

Relieved, but not really satisfied – how could he be with his daughter's safety on the line? – Ted added, "Is it enough?"

No one knew an answer to that. Would anything be enough if Voldemort decided that he wanted them dead?

"I wish you wouldn't be in the Auror Corps," Andromeda spoke up, but waved her words away almost instantly when she saw Dora open her mouth to protest, though she did not look apologetic at all. "I know. I would just be sleeping better if you weren't in the front line all the time."

"I'm in the Order, too, Mum. I'll always –"

Remus laid a hand on her arm. "At least you learned how to protect yourself properly. And you might even get a warning before something major happens. The Ministry does have its information system."

"If it doesn't fall like last time." Grim nods went all around.

Then Ted looked up at his son-in-law. "Will the Order send you out again to treat with the werewolves?" There was more than curiosity in his voice, trepidation maybe.

"They will try, I think," Remus replied. "Following Dumbledore's plans and all that. But I will not go. They didn't listen when there was peace. The situation for Dark Creatures has grown worse since then. So why would their answer change?"

After a sideward glance at his wife – and how giddy the mere thought of that words made him – he continued, "Also I have a reason to stay home now. No one will make me leave if I don't have to."

Though Remus' voice sounded casual, the expression in his eyes was not. Determination lay there, fear for this new-found happiness, love.

Dora smiled at him, his feelings mirrored on her face. "And I wouldn't let you go."

Without words they decided to stop talking about the war looming over their heads and souls. Instead they traded stories and jokes like any other family would, rejoicing in their short moment of infinity. And what did it matter, if they clung a bit harder to recalling childhood's innocence than they might have during more peaceful times.

Right there and then, they were alive.

* * *

><p>"Thank you," Remus said later, when they were home and preparing for bed. "For being so stubborn and for refusing to giving up on making me see."<p>

Dora started laughing, turning to embrace him.

"You make me the happiest man on earth." It was cheesy, but he just did not care about that.

She kissed him briefly before speaking herself. "Thank _you_. For seeing reason and being there for me whenever I needed you. You make me the happiest woman on earth." A playful smile appeared on her lips. "Well, actually, I know how you could make me even happier."

"Oh, pray tell, my dear wife," he breathed, drawing circles on her back, letting his hands wander slowly deeper. "How would I do that?"

They kissed again, longer this time, hard and soft and longing, full of promises and happy endings.

"Maybe you should slay the dragon before you run off with the princess?" Dora navigated them over to the bed, taking care to never lose skin contact. "You are, however, very lucky, because this princess is way too impatient to wait."

When she lowered herself onto the mattress, he refused to be pulled down with her. Instead he looked at her, concerned.

"I don't know if I can do this." Dora started pouting, making him grin. "But I guess a bit of encouragement would aid me greatly, so I can continue my quest with new energy."

"I'm sure it will," she laughed cheekily. "_If_ you are able to get up afterwards."

Mock-growling, he jumped at her, catching her lips in another kiss, while long fingers made short work of his shirt buttons. "We'll see who won't be able to walk come morning."

They did not get much sleep that night, for once for all the right reasons. And still, dawn came way too soon, no matter how desperately they clung to the darkness and that chance to be nothing but two souls in love, holding each other close as if that could keep out the world.

But morning came, and with it duty and responsibility and all the things they needed to save. And of course they got up without complaining, preparing to fight their battles one by one. They had never been more determined to win – now that they had everything to lose again.

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><p>Sorry for this. Anyway, thanks for reading.<p> 


	8. Closed Doors

This one's not happy, but I promise things will look up again right away ;-)

Thank you to **BlueSwallow80**, **VlightPhase** and **LittleMissImperfection**.

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><p>vii – Closed Doors<p>

Andromeda's face was a mask, made of stone and ice and helplessness. Even knowing there was nothing he could possibly do, Remus felt like he should go over to her, promise her bitter-sweet nothings or – anything, really. He did not, however, because her daughter needed him more.

Dora clung to him, fingers digging painfully into his arm while he held her close. She was trembling, though he could not say if it was because of fear, sadness or underlying fury. He was not so sure about his own feelings, either.

On the outside, Ted seemed to be the only one unfazed by the storm that the news from the Ministry had brought into the Tonks' home.

_Muggleborn Registration Act_ they called it. A simple thing to catalogue Magical Britain's population.

Dora had found other words for it; _barbaric_ and _unfair_ and _not right_. She had ranted for hours, angry and impossible to calm, while her parents took one long look at each other and knew without words, what that meant for them.

It did not make it easier.

And now there he was, husband and father and good friend, about to turn into a run-away, hunted by the same law-office his daughter was working for.

Still, Ted smiled at them, small and sad, and his eyes held all the things he dared not say because they would make leaving impossible. Then, one last check to see if he had all the things needed to survive out there in a world torn by war, even while he left the most important ones behind.

"Well, I guess this is it," his voice was hoarse, full of emotions, and his smile wavered.

Remus softly loosened Dora's fingers and stepped forward, intent on giving the family time on their own after he had said his good-byes. He was slightly surprised when the older man hugged him, overwhelmed, too, because all of them had become his family, and losing one of them, especially like this, was ripping him apart.

"Keep my girls safe," Ted whispered into his ear.

"Always," Remus croaked through his painfully constricted throat, not managing to say anything more.

When he stepped back, Dora rushed in to take his place, throwing herself into her father's arms, holding him for what might very well be the last time.

He quietly made his way over to the door to the kitchen to give them privacy while finding something – anything – to keep him occupied.

A hand on his arm stopped him and when he snapped up his head, he met Andromeda's dark grey eyes.

"Stay," she said simply. "You are family, too."

Remus smiled, strained and painful, but honest. When he nodded his acceptance, she turned around to her husband.

"Dora," at any other time that would have elicited laughter. Andromeda using her daughter's nickname. In this moment, however, it was just another reminder, of impossible things happening. "There is no time."

Dora sobbed loudly and, for a moment, they held onto each other even closer, before Ted pushed her away softly.

"Don't cry, darling," Remus would have loved to feel as confident as Ted's voice sounded. "I'll be back in no time."

_After Voldemort is dead. After we have won._ If_ we win._

None of them said that aloud, not while things looked as bad as they did these days. Not with the Ministry run by Death Eaters and Hogwarts turned into a pureblood school, where children were tortured not taught. Not while their only hope had disappeared, on some obscure mission none of them knew about.

"Take care, Dad." Ted kissed Dora on the forehead, then pushed her towards Remus. She nodded, clearly gathering her courage, and left their parents while returning to her own safe spot in Remus' arms.

There were tears still running down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away, not ashamed for missing her father before he was gone – and she knew they would be replaced by new ones almost instantly.

Remus shushed her while she buried her face in his chest, not willing to actually see the door close behind Ted. He, however, had to see.

The Registration Act did not surprise him at all, having known prejudice for all his life. And, following Voldemort's goals, this was only to be expected. Ted's decision to leave was another matter altogether.

In a way, it made sense. Most of all, he would probably be safer on the run, than hiding in one of the Order safe houses – not that there were many left – or actively fighting by their side. Also, it was better for his family, who could then claim truthfully that they did not know where he was and that they had broken off all contact and allegiance with him. That would keep Andromeda out of trouble for siding and "sullying" her blood with a muggleborn, and Dora could keep working at the Ministry, being an inside source.

Which she would not. Despite several protests from other Order members. But he, and Andromeda, were more than happy with that decision. Having her at the front lines was dangerous enough. Sending her into off into the infiltrated Ministry would be even more so. And there, none of them could protect her.

"Stay safe," Ted's voice ripped him out of his musings. He had his bag in hand and a determined expression on his face.

This was it, then.

Funny, really, how such a simple act of a door closing and a friend leaving like he had done a thousand times before, could leave them so hollow, so heavy with fear and grief.

How long would it be until they would hear from him again? How long until they could hold him in their arms, and see him smile? How long – if it would happen at all. If there were anyone of them left a week from now, a month, a year.

They kept standing there in the entrance hall, silent, staring at dark polished wood that did not open again, no matter how hard all of them willed it to. Dora's face was still against his chest. He could feel warm tears moisten his shirt and her hands clutching at his back.

An eternity later, Andromeda moved. "I'll make tea," she sounded as if she was wondering how tea could make any of this better. And she half expected no water to come out of the tap, or their stove to be broken, but everything worked just as fine as it always did.

It seemed wrong, somehow. And she thought, not for the first time, that she'd rather fight off a dozen Death Eaters than face this alone, the silence, the empty house, the not knowing whether Ted was still alive.

Then Remus entered, half-carrying Dora and gently seating her at the table. He took the kettle out of Andromeda's trembling hands and pushed her, too, to sit down.

None of them said anything while he busied himself with preparing the tea, or for long after. But, somehow, them being there made it just a tiny bit better. Her daughter's tear-strained face, Remus' caring glances.

It made her remember that she was not in this alone.

* * *

><p>For the time being, they had moved in with Andromeda. The house was big enough to give all the occupants some time alone when needed, but, overall, it helped all of them to have someone around, to keep up some kind of normalcy while outside the walls, their world was slowly burning down.<p>

There had not yet been word of Harry and the Order missions themselves were not going well at all. But as soon as the door closed behind them, they managed to keep up that fragile illusion of peace.

"Stop reading, Remus," Dora called over from the bed, voice slightly impatient. She never had patience these days when it came to their private time. "I'm waiting for you."

Throwing her a seemingly uninterested look, he shrugged. "You know, this is rather fascinating. I think I'll just finish this chapter." Ignoring her groan, he continued. "And maybe the next one, too. Who knows if I'll have time tomorrow."

"Remus?" she asked, word drawn out, but he raised a hand and interrupted whatever she wanted to add, without even so much as looking up again.

"Did you just?" she harrumphed and he had to hide a grin behind his book – only to be caught completely by surprise when a pillow hit him right in the head.

"Oi," he exclaimed, too busy with not falling off his chair to say anything more coherent. At her giggling, he glared at her. "Do you think this is funny?"

When she merely nodded, he cracked a grin and got up, crossing his arms before walking over to her. "Well, it seems we have to do something about this then," he announced in his sternest voice.

Dora waggled her eyebrows at him cheekily, but when he dived for her, she squealed and tried to squirm out of the way of his fingers who, after so many years and tickling wars, knew exactly where to go.

"Mercy," she cried out.

He only laughed at that. "Did you have mercy at me just now?" She nodded. "Did you – what?" At his asking glance she nodded again. "You mean you _had_ mercy?" Remus sounded confused, which elicited another round of giggles.

"Of course I did," Dora looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "I decided to give you another chance, instead of just getting up and going downstairs to play chess with my mum." Grinning, she added, "A very long game. It might have gone on the whole night."

Remus raised one eyebrow at that. "So, you would have left me all alone up here?" Suddenly he grinned widely. "Great, do just that, so I can go back to my book."

Upon her incredulous expression, he managed to hold the innocent look on his face for all of three seconds, before he started laughing and bent down to kiss her. When he was mere inches from her, she pushed against his chest.

"You, my dear husband, will pay for that," shrugging she continued, "Later. Now, we've got better things to do."

She raised her head and her lips met his with longing tenderness. Burying a hand in his hair, she pulled him down on her and he willingly followed her. His fingers moved down her sides, knowing just where she liked them best, causing her to lean into him.

"Do you still want to go and read," she teased when they parted,

"Do you still want to go and play chess with your mother?"

"Could you just _not_ talk about my mum right now?" Dora groaned, causing him to chuckle.

"As my Lady commands," he leaned down, trailing kisses across her collarbone. "We could talk about Greagot's Third Law of Arithmancy instead."

"_Or_ we could not talk at all." But, withdrawing slightly, she started nibbling at her lip. "Although, there _is_ something I wanted to tell you."

Her voice had grown serious, causing Remus to sit up at once, eyeing her with concern. "Did something happen?"

"No," shaking her head she corrected herself. "I mean, yes, but nothing bad. In fact, I think it is something wonderful."

It seemed as if her whole being was smiling at him. And that made his own lips curl upward on their own regard. "Did you get news from Ted?"

A shadow flickered through her eyes, but it was almost instantly gone again. They hadn't heard anything from her father ever since he left, but they tried to stay positive. So it had to be something very good indeed, if it made her forget about their missing family member, even if only for a while.

"No, but – Remus, I'm pregnant."

He did not smile. He did not kiss her again. In fact, he did not react at all.

"Remus," Dora repeated after a time filled with only tense silence, now almost uncertain. "We –"

Her words were lost somewhere in the air between them, and he did not hear them, but their meaning was already settling deep into his bones, cold and heavy.

"A child," Remus rasped, never noticing her hurt expression when he got up from the bed abruptly, turning away from her.

"Yes," she insisted stubbornly, following him, not willing to be shut out. "_Our _child."

"This is impossible," and the way he desperately glanced around the whole room made it seem like he did not only mean her being pregnant, but the whole situation between them.

"Well, actually," Dora drawled, good mood vanished completely, but was interrupted.

"You don't understand," by now he sounded almost angry. And that was not at all the reaction she had pictured. Of course, this was not the best time. They _were_ in a war, and they found themselves fighting every other day, but they were in love, and it felt right, and she knew they would manage.

"You don't understand," he repeated, running a hand through his hair, positively growling.

"What?" Dora snapped. She had enough of this and stepped right in front of him, forcing him to look at her. Though as soon as their eyes met, she wished she hadn't. His were dark and filled with a right chaos of mixing emotions: desperation, disbelief, a little bit of (forbidden) joy perhaps, but most of all fear.

Fear.

"Remus," she tried again, more softly this time, taking his face in between her hands. "We can do this."

Ripping his head away, he shook his head. "This is not about the very high probability that neither of us will survive this bloody war. Or about me being too old, and this just being ridiculously wrong." That hurt, but she refused to show him how much.

"Then what _is_ this about, Mr. I'm-Not-Good-Enough?" she had intended her voice to sound more scathing, but she just could not. This was not going at all like she had thought.

Closing his eyes, Remus continued much more quietly than before. "No one knows what – We – My kind doesn't usually breed."

_His_ kind? Breed? Anger was rushing through Dora's veins. Of all the things-

"Are you serious?" she asked in a dangerously low voice. "Do you want to tell me that –"

"I told you you wouldn't understand," he all but roared. Then straightened up and turned to the door. Right before he could disappear through it, he spoke up again, tonelessly and somehow detached.

"Don't wait up for me."

With that he was gone, hasting down the stairs, trying to calm the storm raging in his mind.

A child. A _child_. What had he done?


	9. Where We Belong

And here he is, going home again.

A big thank you to **Echelon95**, **BlueSwallow80** and** VlightPhase**.

* * *

><p>The silence was driving him mad.<p>

It had been three weeks and four days and an uncountable amount of lonely heartbeats and half-smiles that disappeared as soon as they had come because there was no one to share them with.

And it was so silent.

Remus was currently residing in the Shrieking Shack, not able to think about any other place where he could be alone to think, where no one would come to look for him, enemy _ or _friend.

There were a lot of noises originating from the old building. Drawn out gasps from the walls bending, howling whispers of the wind against stained glass, the painful creaks of rotten wood under his relentlessly pacing feet.

But on of those were _alive_.

Well, of course he spoke with fellow Order members or outside contacts, having not abandoned his duty or missions. It just was not what he craved.

_Her._ Her voice and laughter, the calming frequency of her breath. Her absence in all things was almost physically painful.

That the fault for this lay entirely with him did not make things better. Nor did the fact that going back was harder than it had any right to be.

A bitter chuckle rose in his throat. What was he so afraid of? He probably would not even be able to see her. Andromeda would guard her with everything she had, every last bit of desperation to keep the last member of her family safe, after everyone else had abandoned her in one way or another.

And that was just the crux of the matter. _He_ had abandoned _them_.

Harry's harsh words had opened his eyes, made him accept that he had been wrong, that he was not helping anyone with running away. That he was, in fact, making everything worse.

But he _had_ left, and he really had no right at all to just go back and expect them to take him in again. Especially considering that Dora must feel a thousand times worse than him, being the one who _was_ abandoned, with no say in it at all, no chance to prepare for the blow, or avoid it somehow.

So, here he was, in the Shrieking Shack, pacing endlessly, staring at the walls of this well-known prison. This time not trying to escape the all-mighty lure of the moon, though he was battling himself just as much.

"Damn it all," he whispered hoarsely, running a hand through his greying hair. Then he narrowed his eyes. "Damn it all," he repeated. And, without slowing his pace, he turned and disappeared.

The familiar sight, while somewhat soothing the heaviness in his bones, was not helping at all with his anxiety. There was a light on in Dora's room, small and flickering, and it filled him with new determination.

All he had longed for these past three weeks was there, within reach. Let Andromeda glare at him with disappointment and resentment, let Dora yell at him, let Ted, whenever he came back, fulfil his promise of eternal pain now that he dared hurt his daughter.

Just don't let them turn away.

Remus did not bother with squaring his shoulders. No need to appear more confident than he was. They were all the family he had left. So they would see right through it, anyway.

Long strides took him closer to the entrance, and when the well-known magic of the wards washed over him, he felt some of the tension leave his body. This was right, no matter how things would go.

Like so many years ago, when he had visited for the first time, the door opened before he had reached it. It was not Ted greeting him, nor where there any smiles to be seen. But the door _did_ open, and as of yet, no curses were flying at him.

Andromeda watched him coming closer, face unmoved and saying nothing until he stopped a couple feet from her. There were dark bags under her eyes, causing Remus to feel guilt rush through him again.

How could he have just left? Even more so during these times.

"Andromeda," he said simply, voice not sure at all, but hoarse and laced with emotion.

"You –" she started, then cleared her throat. "You're back."

It was not a question. She knew he would not be here if he was not sure about it. She knew he would not do this to her daughter, not on top of all the other pain.

"Yes." Relief reverberated with that single word, a confession of things much more complicated.

Andromeda nodded once, then stepped aside to let him in. The part of him that did not sigh in eternal relief, was not surprised. Many things were left unsaid, but they had come to an understanding nonetheless.

_It is not my forgiveness you need,_ the tired line of her shoulders seemed to whisper. _Go to her. If she takes you back, I will to. And then we will talk._

The ghost of a smile flickered across her lips at his answering nod, filled with all the strength she had come to admire him for. Dora would not send him away, she knew that, and she was glad for it. Those two were good for each other, and a force to be reckoned with, one she would not want to stand against.

Remus took each step with utmost care, caught between the urge to rush and the feeling of dread rising once again inside him. The way, while seeming to be a hundred miles, took him only a couple of stuttering heartbeats.

Then he knocked.

"I'm okay, Mum," _her_ voice answered at once, tired and not at all _okay_. "Go to bed."

He did not know what to reply, if there were any words at all that he _could _say, so he simply opened the door and stepped in.

_Home_, he thought, only to shake his head. _No, not yet._

"I said I'm –" she snapped and froze at the sight of him. Her hair was that mousy brown he had come to hate, for it was the very product of him hurting her. The bags under her eyes were just as dark as her mother's. And she seemed so small.

Rubbing her eyes tiredly, she suddenly laughed. It was not a happy sound.

"Merlin, why did no one tell me that being pregnant makes you go all barmy and gives you bloody hallucinations."

So she wanted him back?

Reluctantly, he stepped a bit closer, to get into the flickering circle of light from the candle, only to freeze again, stopped by the knowledge that he was not yet welcome. "I'm really here," and didn't that sound insufficient at all?

"A hallucination would say that," Dora pointed out, still not looking at him.

"We could get Andromeda. I doubt she would be hallucinating of me, too."

"And have her cart me off to St. Mungo's? Hell, no."

The whole situation seemed surreal. He had thought she'd be yelling by now, hitting him, cursing; anything, really. This rather beaten person did not seem like the ever vibrant girl he had married. (And left behind.)

Remus thought frantically of something to say, to apologize, to console her. That was when she looked up, and all thoughts vanished from his mind.

Her eyes were as tired as the rest of her, but still, they were filled with the strength he associated with her. There was hope, too. And not an insignificant amount of weariness.

"Dora," he started, trailing off again because '_I'm sorry_' simply was not enough to express what he felt.

She seemed to hear it nonetheless. "You're back," she said in an exact replica of her mother.

And he, having to trust her to understand this before anything else, also repeated his earlier sentiment. "Yes."

Blinking a couple of times, she stayed silent, then lowered her gaze and whispered, almost to herself, "Remus."

It was as if that broke some invisible wall between them that had made it possible for him to move. Two long strides were all it took for him to reach the bed where she sat curled up in herself. He knelt in front of her, extending his hands towards hers, lingering in the air, asking for permission to touch her again.

Dora did not hesitate to lean into his warmth, and that was when he knew that they would be good again, that they would make it through this maze of hurt and doubt he had erected.

"Remus," she said again, and then she was in his arms, clinging onto him, inhaling his scent deeply as if to fill every last fibre of her being. He mirrored her in kind.

"I'm back," he promised. _I will never leave again. Once was enough. I'll stay. I'll stay._

They did not talk that night, nor did they sleep. For hours they held onto each other, slowly letting go of fears and tension, their hearts beating in tact with the never ending echo inside of their minds. _Home, home, home, home._

* * *

><p>"What made you see sense?" Andromeda asked later during breakfast. She looked a lot better this morning. Her eyes, while there were still dark circles beneath them, seemed more alive somehow, less worn.<p>

When she had entered the kitchen to the both of them cooking and setting the table, every couple moments touching each other as if making sure this was not a dream, she had smiled and surprised Remus by drawing him into an embrace.

_I am not okay with what you did, and we _will_ have a talk later,_ she had said, _but I am glad that you are back._

"Harry," he answered, still puzzling about how much the boy had changed. Though, with a war looming over them and all those expectations on his shoulders, it really was no wonder.

"Harry?," Dora asked with obvious disbelief, then her head snapped up. "You've seen him?"

"Yes," Remus nodded. "They are staying at Grimmauld Place."

"But what are they doing? The Order is looking for them and they do what?"

"He didn't want to tell, said Dumbledore told him not to," for a second he hesitated, knowing both woman would surely understand the implication of his next words, how easily he would have abandoned them for another task. "I offered them my help."

Dora looked at him, indeed getting what he left out, nodded once and continued. "Then they are fools. These are not the times to play hero. They are far too vulnerable on their own."

Clearly waiting for him to agree with her, her face grew concerned when he did not.

"I -," he shrugged uncomfortably. "We did not part on good terms."

Andromeda snorted. "Then we shall thank him before we throttle him for taking unnecessary risks."

He smiled at the familiarity of it, Andromeda's dry sense of humour, to be followed by Ted's - or not. His smile grew strained, but he kept it up, willed himself to focuse on his homecoming, not on leaving. Never again on leaving.

* * *

><p><em>Dear sister,<em> the letter said, words sprawled carelessly in mottled brown colour. _I am sure you will be very pleased, indeed, to hear that the filth you chose to sully your pure blood with, is no longer able to threaten your integrity._

_I have to admit I am disappointed that I did not catch him myself, but rest assured that I made sure that you are free of him from now on._

_You would do well to remind his spawn of just how fragile her standing in our future society is. It would be a shame if I had to come and teach her not to stand against those she will never be able do defeat._

_Stay safe, sister. Enjoy your little paradise of sins while it lasts. I will not forget._

_Bellatrix_

Afterwards, there was only silence.

* * *

><p>"Don't go," Andromeda's voice was quiet and hoarse from disuse, still it rang through the eerie silence that filled the house.<p>

"Mum," Dora's head snapped around from where she stood at the door, eyes narrowed to catch a glimpse of her mother standing in the dark entrance hall. "Are you –"

Stupid question. None of them were okay, but it had, understandably, hit Andromeda the hardest. Where her daughter still had the anger of the young to keep her occupied, there was only resignation for her, loss, the frightening knowledge of their life together being over. Just like that.

It was like living the life of a ghost. Time went by unnoticed, she slept and woke, sometimes she ate what her children put in front of her, though more often than not she just stared at her plate, thinking back to calm weekends when they had spent hours in the kitchen, cooking and reading and sharing jokes.

There were no jokes anymore. Sure, there was talk. Remus did his best to get their minds off things, having refused to leave them even for a single minute. And she was glad for that, that Dora had him, at least. Because, frankly, she was not so sure she could have pulled herself together for her daughter, had it been only them.

As it was, they left her room to grieve while constantly nudging her into going on. Living. Breathing. All the things that had not seemed important since that letter nearly a month ago.

This night, though, whispered voices had snapped her out of her apathy. Maybe they thought she was sleeping, maybe they did not want her to know they were leaving. It did not matter, she heard, and it made ice spread through her veins.

They could not go. Maybe her fear was irrational but she had the agonizing suspicion that, if the door closed behind them, they would not come back.

"Andromeda," Remus said, half-concerned, half-soothing. "There's an Order meeting tonight. We'll be back in a few hours."

"No." Why couldn't they see? She wanted to voice her fears, but every breath seemed to constrict her throat further.

Dora squeezed Remus' arm as if to stop him from something, leaving, staying. Then she made her way over to her mother, their roles suddenly reversed, with her trying to calm the older woman's nerves.

"It's okay, Mum," she opened her arms and pulled Andromeda into an embrace, not caring that the swelling of her belly made it quite uncomfortable for them both.

"Don't go," Andromeda repeated, a tiny bit of her old stubbornness shining through.

"Shh, we won't," Dora promised, turning her head to share a glance with Remus, who nodded and walked towards the living room, probably to tell someone they weren't coming to the meeting.

He was not that unhappy with that, anyway, with Dora's pregnancy drawing closer to its end. Even with her not having been on active duty for quite some time, he did not want her any closer to the war than necessary.

Also, because none of them were as emotionally stable as they needed to be to avoid possibly fatal mistakes.

When he returned to the entrance hall, both women were still standing the exact way he had left them, communicating through something far more honest than words could ever be. He gently nudged them towards the kitchen.

Andromeda was right. They should not go anywhere.

Right now, they had their own battles to win.

* * *

><p>I did want to end this on a lighter note, but I thought you'd rather want to have a chapter at all than wait for me to get out of my studying-induced bad mood. Next time!<p>

Thank you for reading and, please, tell me what you think.


	10. Chasing Dreams

A big thank you to **BlueSwallow80**, **roflshvuakomail**, **VlightPhase** and **NovelLady**.

* * *

><p><span>Chasing Dreams<span>

„So, what do you think about this one?" Dora's playful voice stood in a stark contrast to the dark shadows beneath her eyes. It still held the same tiredness Remus felt deep in his bones. That did not matter right now, though. They were home and together and safe for the moment.

"I'd rather reserve judgement," he answered, one eyebrow raised mockingly. "I am quite happy with my momentary state of health."

Cocking her head, Dora frowned and looked back at the – _thing_ she had shoved into his face mere seconds ago. "I think it's cute," upon getting no response, she corrected herself. "Well, it _could_ be worse."

"Like the one you tried last week," Remus dodged her fist with ease. "No, you're right, of course. You _are_ getting better at this." That was when he could not fight off the grin any longer. "Give it to me."

"No," Dora squealed when he reached out, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "You'll just ruin it."

Remus laughed out loud.

"Now you're just mean," she pouted, but looked happy nonetheless. Laughter was rare these days, and those short moments at home with only their family and none of the worries about their world and future were all that kept her going at times.

That, and their son, who was watching them curiously from where he lay on their bed, young eyes focused on them, a smile on his lips – and hair that, for the time being, was bright orange, which clashed horribly with his Gryffindor red rompers.

Which was why she had tried to change the colour of another one to something that would make Teddy look less ridiculous. Only, it seemed, as proficient as she was at transfiguring herself, inanimate objects seemed to be completely out of her league. Though she was sure, even someone who was actually good at this would be hard-pressed to manage this exact shade of neon-green. Or the lilac polka dots she was not even aiming for.

"I promise I won't ruin it." _Any more than you already did_, hung in the air between them, as obvious as if he had said it out loud, causing her to harrumph, not yet willing to give in.

"Or," he relented, still grinning widely, "we can just wait which colour our dear son will sport next. Maybe it will match and –" At that, he was cut off by the green monstrosity hitting him right in the face.

He fully expected Dora to use his momentary distraction to jump at him and maybe start another tickling war – something they would probably never grow tired off – instead she smiled and came to engulf him in a warm embrace, full of underlying meaning.

Dora loved the way he would say 'our son' every now and then. The way his face lit up with wonder whenever he looked at the tiny child they had made. How his voice would grow soft. How he seemed years younger and more healthy than she had ever seen him.

It gave her hope. For the days to come. For their future. It made that dream image in her head, where they were old and grey and surrounded by grandchildren in the same cottage she had grown up in, all the more possible, the more alluring.

"I love you," she mumbled against his chest, taking in his strong heartbeat.

"And I love you," he answered, somehow understanding all that went unsaid, like he had always been able to, ever since they had met a lifetime ago on that graveyard, when his life seemed to be all but over.

They could have stood there for hours, comfortable in each other's arms, with nothing but their breaths to fill the silence around them. Teddy, however, seemed to feel left out – or he was disappointed that his night's entertainment had ended so abruptly.

Either way, both of them turned immediately at the demanding babbling and made their way over to the bed. Dora took up their son, placed a kiss on his forehead and returned to her safe spot with her husband, Teddy held carefully between them. He seemed more than happy with that, trusting his parents to be there for him. Always.

"How about you tell us a story?" Dora asked, lips curled up in a half-smile. "You know, for good dreams, and all that."

Remus chuckled at that. "I'm pretty sure you already know all of my stories."

"Teddy doesn't," she shrugged. "Also I like listening to your voice."

"Ah, there it is, the bitter truth," he intoned, nodding gravely. "All this years you've kept me around for my voice only. I bet you never even paid attention to what I said."

"You've found me out," then she scrunched up her face thoughtfully. "Though I vaguely remember something about – was it a giant cat wandering around a forest and doing all kind of boring things?"

"Do you hear that, Teddy," he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Never believe a woman's word. They'll say anything to get what they want. And before you know it, you've parted with all your wisdoms and are left with nothing, while they never even cared."

"My, what an insightful man you are," Dora grinned, "I shall never let you have any say in my son's education. You'll corrupt him –"

"_I_ will corrupt him?" he looked at her aghast. "Oh the shame, having my virtues doubted by a flighty character such as yours."

She felt the trembling of his chest as he tried to contain the rising laughter. In response, she snuggled deeper into his embrace.

"You know," she said finally, thoughtful and content, "I think I will very much enjoy listening to you telling our story to Teddy. We've had our rough patches but-"

"It is a good story to tell," he agreed. "And it is not yet over."

Looking up at him, Dora nodded. "No, it is not."

* * *

><p>Two days later, the news spread like fire.<p>

_Potter is at Hogwarts. You-know-who is on the move. Be ready. We're fighting._

_This is it. We're fighting. We're fighting._

Dora would never have admitted it out loud, but she was afraid. Holding Teddy close to her chest, she really tried to listen to her mother's voice, but the pressure on her ears blocked out every sound.

Kingsley's patronus had roused them rather painfully from the peaceful routine their home life had turned into during the last weeks. They had tried to keep the war out, to create a safe haven to gather strength and use every single moment of calm as if it were their last. Until it was.

The voice of her former colleague had been collected, but he did not manage to hide the underlying tension, the trembling trepidation of knowing what was to come. It told them more than his words ever could.

This was no routine raid. No false alarm. It was the real thing, that would decide their future – or whether they would have one at all.

Remus had gotten up immediately, seemingly unhesitating. There was steel in his eyes and, for once, there was no trace of a smile on his lips when he looked at her and Teddy. Determination was oozing from his very being, resolve to fight and win and avenge everything he had lost.

She had envied him that, if only for a short moment. Then, there was all-consuming fear. For him. For _them_. For her dream.

As an Auror she should not feel that way. Danger was her area of expertise, fighting for her life, baiting death. And, truly, it was not herself she feared for. Mainly it was for her husband, whom she had had only for so short a time, and their son, who was so innocent and so dependant on them. For her mother, too, because she could not imagine the pain she would be going through if anything were to happen to them. Not after her father's death.

So she rose, only a couple of heartbeats later than him, needing the reassuring warmth of her son in her arms to gather her courage, before she could stand as strong and ready as Remus.

"No," he had said, when his eyes fell on her shrugging on her Auror robes, voice flat and unyielding. So very similar to his resistance to give in to his feelings what seemed like a lifetime ago – or mere seconds, now that their being together was suddenly threatened to be over again so soon.

"Yes," she had answered, not even bothering to look up at him. Oh, how she regretted that now, missing out on the chance to see his face and eyes and lips. Who knew how changed he would come back, or if – no, she was not going there. He would come back. He had to.

"Dora," the word held nothing of its usual warmth. Instead it was a drawn out, impatient sound.

"Yes, Remus," she snapped, while fastening her wand holder with one hand.

He had been silent then for a moment, tension filling the room, until she could feel him deflate.

"Dora," he repeated, allowing the chaos of his thoughts to show in his voice, causing her heart to stop and jump. Then he was there, right in front of her, cupping her face in caring hands.

The emotions in his amber eyes hurt almost physically. "I –" she started, but found she did not know what to say.

"I cannot lose you," Remus whispered.

Dora had been prepared to argue, to point out that she'd rather fight and do her part in securing their son's future than sit at home waiting and _staying safe_. She had waited for him to point out all his clever reasons as to why she should stay behind, that she should not risk her life when Teddy needed them, that there were enough people, that her wand, while greatly appreciated, would not be what would change this day's outcome.

She would have been able to fight that. But this – Remus being more vulnerable than she had seen him in a long time, letting all barriers fall. Not for a single second did she doubt his sincerity. The pain in his eyes was too real, the fear in his trembling fingers too familiar.

"I –" she tried again, feeling her resolve crumble. Finally she threw herself into his arms, needing to feel his warmth again, his heartbeat, strong and undeniably alive.

"Come back to me," she said, her tone urgent and longing. "Don't you dare die, Remus Lupin."

He held her, breathing a kiss onto the top of her head. "I won't leave you," he promised. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere where you are not."

Her eyes started burning, and she found herself oddly unwilling to fight them back. "Come back to me," she said again, the words echoing in her mind without pause.

"I love you."

A gentle, yet desperate, kiss, a squeeze, then he let go of her, and it seemed like all the warmth had left her body. Remus' movements seemed just a tad more reluctant than before, but she was not sure at all if she should be happy about that. He would need all his strength out there.

Gathering up Teddy in his arms for a last goodbye, their eyes locked again.

"Go down to your mother. I don't want you to be alone."

She must have nodded, because he handed their son over to her, took a deep breath, and was gone. It was all she could do, not to collapse right there and then.

Instead, she hugged the small body of her boy, and left herself, afraid of what she might do if the sudden silence would press in on her any longer.

Not that sitting in the kitchen with her mother, clinging to a mug of tea which had grown cold an eternity ago, was any better. Andromeda sat with her back straight, like she had been taught to, but her face was not as emotionless as she might have liked.

"I'm glad you are here," she had said, a strange emphasis on 'you', like she knew something Dora did not.

All that came after was slow, agonizing waiting, fear of being left behind mingled with the horror images of what might happen at Hogwarts while she was sitting in her childhood home pretending to listen to her mother's calming muttering.

It was impossible.

Like in a trance, she took hold of one of Teddy's tiny hands, squeezing it gently before placing a kiss on his brow.

"I love you," she choked out, and could have repeated it for a thousand times and it would not have been enough. "And your Dad loves you, too. Never doubt that, Teddy."

When she looked up, her mother was staring at her, a strange mix of resignation and panic warring in her eyes.

"Nymphadora," she started but fell silent again.

"I cannot," Dora answered nonetheless, trying to sound apologetic. She handed her son over, and made all her promises with the small smile gracing her lips.

"I love you, mum," she hugged the older woman goodbye and straightened.

Breathing seemed to be much easier, now that she knew what she had to do.

* * *

><p>It was utter chaos.<p>

Hogwarts was in near ruin. Walls were broken down, windows shattered, rubble filled the hallways were once carefree students had made their first steps into their own life. And where they were now dying.

_It's madness_, Dora thought, as she tried to make her way through the castle, dodging curses and throwing her own left and right. There were bodies covering the ground, and most of them were too small to allow her any illusions about which side they had been on.

_They are children_, she wanted to scream at a Death Eater who pointed a wand at some boy in Ravenclaw robes. The green light missed its target, but it was only a matter of time until someone else was hit.

The air was filled with dust and emerald and crimson. And she was sick of it.

"Where is Remus?" she had asked a thousand times by now. "Have you seen Professor Lupin?"

That was madness, too, she knew. She should focus on the fighting, on staying alive and taking as many of their enemies down as possible. But ever since she had appeared at what seemed to be the end of the world come true, all rational thought had been banned from her mind. All the endless hours with Moody in Auror training gone for the basic need to find her husband and hold him and make sure that he was safe.

As far as anyone could be safe here.

A spell grazed her, causing blood to soak her torn sleeve, but Dora never felt any pain. There was no time for anything to distract her.

"Have you seen Remus," she called out again, faintly registering someone answering something about the courtyard.

Seven years of living in the castle directed her steps automatically to her new destination, even if nothing looked like she remembered it.

When she stepped out into the waning light, relief flooded her veins. There he was, a mere hundred yards from her, alive and fighting. She wanted to call out to him, but she did not, not daring to distract him.

Instead she rushed through the mass of bodies and curses and death, calmer now, reassured somehow that everything would turn out fine. They were together again now. They would get through this like they had done before.

"If that isn't my dear little niece," a voice shrieked from her side, making her gut clench in fear. "Nymphadora is it?" Bellatrix' mad laughter filled the air.

Dora closed her eyes for a second, cursing her bad luck, then she readied herself to turn and fight. But when she looked up, she stared right into Remus' face, shocked and pale and full of disbelief.

"Dora," he mouthed, and some of his strength seemed to shatter, now that he knew her to not be safe at home.

Time seemed to slow then, as if the two of them were the only people left in their world.

Dolohov moved his wand in an elaborate arc and Lestrange danced in closer from behind. Dora saw both of that, but it seemed to have no meaning, no importance to them. She just continued her way, adamant on reaching Remus before this short moment of calm was over.

She almost did.

Her eyes were fixed on those of her husband, transferring a thousand words none of them had the time to speak out loud.

As her world was drowning in crimson and emerald she closed her eyes, not able to stand the thought of seeing him fall, though the picture was there nonetheless, his face growing blank, staring off into that future they wouldn't have.

_You're wasting time,_ a voice thundered in her head that sounded suspiciously like Moody. She knew that. Still, if she opened her eyes, it would be real. _If you do nothing, it will be real._

Her heart, hammering wildly in her chest, stopped for a moment, filled with Remus' smile and Teddy's orange hair and her mother waiting for them to come home.

And then she was moving.

* * *

><p>Don't run away now. This is not the end. I couldn't be that heartless and follow canon (or rather you convinced me not to be).<p>

So, the epilogue is coming up. Hope you like it and thank you for reading!


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